Dawn is Breaking
by Alex Hemming
Summary: Sequel to Dark Link's Legacy. With a new name and a new life, Damien thought his troubles were over. Now, with Link murdered and a deadly threat emerging, he is forced to face a new land and a forgotten past...
1. The Light of Day

Summary: After Dark Link finishes his journey and barely escapes death at the hands of Ganondorf, he settles down to what he thinks will be a quiet life with Malon. He changes his name to Damien, marries Malon, and moves into Lon Lon Ranch. His life seems perfect, but his dreams are haunted by nightmares, and they foretell of dark times. He thoughts his trials were over, but now, five years later, it seems they have only just begun…

(It would probably be a good idea to read my other fic, Dark Link's Legacy, before this one. Otherwise, things might get a bit confusing.)

Chapter 1: The Light of Day 

It was a dream, that much was clear. But it felt so real to Damien. He stood in a small room, which was warm and dimly lit by a single candle sitting on a table near the opposite wall. He walked over and looked at the candle, watching the flame as it burned quietly, mesmerized.

Then the room began to grow cold, and Damien saw the flame flickering, as if about to blow out. He stared at it more intently, silently willing it to keep burning, to stay alive. It seemed to flare at his urging, and to grow brighter. Some of the cold in the room was eliminated by the flame's warmth, and he relaxed a little, relieved.

Then a hand reached out of the darkness behind the candle, a hand of pale complexion, wrapped in ragged clothing, and a pale thumb and forefinger closed on the flame. With a sizzle and a pop, it went out, leaving only a trail of smoke behind it. Damien's stomach dropped in terror as a cry of suffering rent the air, and then faded away.

Then the hand that had killed the flame reached out and grabbed a fistful of Damien's shirt, lifting him off the ground with incredible strength. Out of the now complete darkness leered two glowing red eyes, two blood-red orbs, that gave some illumination to the face beyond, and Damien was horrified to see that it was his own.

At least, it looked a great deal like him, how he used to look as a shadow of Link, Hero of Time, although there were some things that were off; this creature had silvery hair and a smile full of jagged teeth, and he had not. He knew it wasn't him; it couldn't be him. The creature snarled in his face, then breathed deep and roared. It was an unearthly sound that reverberated through Damien's very being, and something about it struck both dread and a deep-seated hatred within him. A fierce, fiery sensation burned in his very soul, and he reached out to attack the creature…

And found himself sitting bolt upright in his bed, wide awake and drenched in a cold sweat. His wife Malon stirred beside him and awoke, looking up at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice groggy but concerned.

Damien looked around at her, recovering, and smiled reassuringly. "Nothing," he whispered. "Just… had a nightmare, I guess." He was glad for the darkness in the room; he didn't want her to see how badly he was shivering. "I'm going to go get some air." He kissed his wife, and then got out of bed and pulled on his day clothes, slipping out of the room with barely a sound and leaving the farmhouse.

Crossing the pasture of Lon Lon Ranch, he climbed up to the top of the outer wall and sat there, looking out over the field to the forest. There the first rays of the sun were creeping above the trees, turning the leaves to gold. The sight tugged at his heart, though he didn't know why. Something inside him wanted to go to the forest; a sixth sense told him he needed to be there.

There was a whinny from the stables, and the inpatient snort of an anxious horse. Damien turned and dropped down from the wall, striding towards the stables, even though he already knew who it was. Shadowmane was scraping against his stable door with a hoof, and he began to frisk about excitedly when he smelled his master coming. Shadowmane was Damien's horse, and had been his companion during his past adventure. Shadowmane had been Ganondorf's horse, and though nobody was sure how, he had lived a long time, and still was as powerful as the day Ganondorf bought him.

Now Damien let him out of his stall, and rode him bareback out of the stables. He let him trot around the corral a bit, but the horse seemed more anxious than usual. Damien relinquished his control, and Shadowmane started drifting east, towards the rising sun. The horse was feeling the same pull he was; go to the forest. Damien patted his steed's neck. "Alright, boy. We'll go there together, just as soon as I can tell Malon."

Damien hurried through breakfast that morning, trying to shake off the nervous glances Malon was giving him. "Are you sure you're ok?" she finally asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," he replied, through a mouthful of eggs. "I'm just going to have a look, then come back. I won't be able too focus if it's nagging at the back of my mind." He finished his breakfast, gave his wife a last, quick kiss on the cheek, and then dashed out with a pack full of supplies. "Bye!" He jumped up into the saddle on Shadowmane's back, and they rode off, invigorated by the cold of the morning and the mist against his face.

Hyrule Field, being a very large area of Hyrule, was not easy to cross quickly; fortunately, the ranch was close to the forest, and it was still morning when he finally reached it. The large, hollow log that lead to the Kokiri Forest was directly in front of him, but his instinct was pulling him away from it, towards the Lost Woods themselves. He urged Shadowmane past the line of the trees, and they made their way carefully along a small dirt path that was not used often, picking their way around large boulders and fallen trees in the quiet of the forest.

It seemed eerie to Damien, the silence; usually, there would be the joyful sound of Skullkid flutes floating on the air, or the distant echo of an ocarina, but today, not even the birds were chirping. "Something is wrong here," he said to himself, his voice hushed in the quiet. He noticed also that the path he was following did not branch out in different directions like the main path. Instead, it kept in a steady direction through the trees, going northeast, towards the Forest Temple.

Damien had been there twice before, to speak with Kaepora Gaebora, the wise owl. But now, upon entering the clearing where it stood, he found that owl was gone, and there was a feeling of tenseness in the air that had not been there before, as though the forest was reacting to some unwelcome presence. Some evil was at work here.

A breeze drifted over him, playing with his hair. He looked around, but the leaves on the trees around him were still. Then he realized that the breeze was coming from inside the temple. A chill ran down his spine, and he hesitated, not knowing what to do. Then the pitiful sound of a child crying reached his ears, drifting to him on the wind, and a nasty feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Quickly, he dismounted Shadowmane and moved to climb the vines on the wall of the temple, to reach the entrance. It was no easy task, but he made it up with a struggle, and stood before the open entrance to the temple. The wind seemed to suddenly grow stronger, but going the opposite way, so that it seemed as though it were pulling him in. Bracing himself, he walked through the portal and entered.

Inside the temple, it was the same feeling as the forest had had, only on a larger scale. The very plants seemed to want to draw away from the walls and recede into the forest. Damien proceeded with caution, drawing his hunting knife from his pack as he walked. He doubted that it would be any use against a real threat, but he still felt more secure with it in his hand.

The sound of a child crying came to him again, louder this time, and he hurried forward into the main chamber of the temple. It was hard to see in the dim lighting, but Damien could barely make out a shape in the center of the floor. He moved over to it slowly, knife raised and ready, and saw that it was none other than Saria, Link's Kokiri friend. She looked at him fearfully, but he spoke to her reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you." He saw that her hands were bound, so he cut the ropes.

She rubbed her aching wrists, looking up at him in confusion. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I'll explain later," said Damien, holding out a hand to help her up. "Let's get you out of here."

"I can't move," she said, eyes brimming with tears. Damien looked behind and around himself, to make sure that there weren't any enemies nearby, and picked her up in his arms. She was surprisingly light for a child. He hurried out of the temple, getting back to his horse by using one hand to slide down the vines and the other to hold tight to Saria. After putting her on Shadowmane, he hopped on the back and rode full speed towards the Kokiri village to warn the others.

When he arrived, they were already in a panic; when they had found Saria missing and Mido unconscious on her doorstep, probably knocked out when trying to defend her, they had taken him into a house and all huddled there in fear. By the time Damien came, Mido had come around, and was keeping a lookout. When he saw Damien coming with Saria, he ran out of the house, Kokiri sword in hand, ready to fight to get her back.

"Mido, it's ok!" she called as they rode up. "He saved me." Damien slid out of the saddle, then lifted Saria off of Shadowmane and set her carefully next to Mido, where she stood unsteadily.

"You aren't safe here," he told them. "You need to leave the village. Is there anyplace nearby where you could hide?"

"The Great Deku Tree has plenty of places to hide," Mido said. "We planned to go there, but we couldn't go without Saria."

"Alright," said Damien. "Come on. Quickly." They hurried in the direction of the great tree in a group, and dashed inside. One by one, they climbed down the vines to the basement below, and Saria was obliged to hold onto Damien as he climbed down, since that was all she was strong enough to do. The Kokiri crawled through a small tunnel into the chamber beyond, but Damien was too large to follow. As Mido assisted Saria through the tunnel, Damien spoke urgently to him. "I'll go to the castle and see if I can get help. How long do you think you can stay in there?"

"As long as we have to," said Mido. "We live off the magic of the forest. Food won't be a problem, of that's what you're thinking."

"Good. Take care, Saria." Damien was about to leave, but then the Kokiri girl called out to him.

"Find Link," she said softly. "He tried to save me. He went into the forest…" She collapsed into a fit of sobbing and could say no more. Damien nodded, watching her disappear into the chamber, then stood and quickly made his way out of the Deku Tree and into the forest.

He moved through the ancient trees in haste, ignoring the path and running over the leave-strewn forest floor, following the same instinct that had brought him to Saria. Along the way, he saw branches broken off trees lying on the path, and strange black stains on the leaves. It looked as though there had been a struggle; but what sort of beast could have left these kinds of marks?

Reaching a clearing, he stopped suddenly as the subconscious pull disappeared. Looking around, he spotted a crumpled body on the ground. He approached it, and turned the body over so that he could see the face. His worst fears were confirmed; Link looked blankly up at the sky from where he lay, blonde hair matted with blood, crystal clear blue eyes glazed over in death.

Damien checked for a pulse, but he already knew he wouldn't find one. He knelt there next to the fallen hero, depressed, but unsure why. It wasn't like he and Link had been good friends, or even acquaintances. Even when he had become a Hylian, they almost never saw each other, and even then, they never had much to say. But now, seeing him lying there like that, Damien felt a deep sense of loss, like nothing he had ever felt before.

He heard a low rumbling behind him, and apprehension filled his mind. Not daring to look behind himself, he looked around the forest floor, and saw the sword Link had been fighting with lying close by. Slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, Damien picked up the sword and looked into the blade.

Beyond his own reflection, he could see a monster standing a couple yards behind him, under the cover of the trees. It was huge, head and shoulders taller than Damien, and it was not unlike a Wolfos; only it was much more distorted-looking, and darker, as though carved from the very shadow itself. It was eyeing him with a hungry look, but he felt no fear, only anger. Noting that the beast had already been badly wounded in many places and would be worn out from loss of blood, he stood and felt thundering footsteps shake the ground as the beast charged.

The creature closed the ground between them in very little time, but before it could strike, Damien swung the sword around and up, plunging it into the creature's stomach. It howled as the blade ripped through bone and muscle and reached the spine, the beast's weak point. With a sickening crack, the spine broke in two, and the creature writhed to the ground and died, disappearing into the shadow it had come from.

Damien lifted the sword to eye level and saw that the blade was pitted and scorched, as though the thing's blood had worn away at it. Tossing the blade aside, he looked down at Link, still lifeless on the ground. The only wound on his body was a small gash on his forehead, and that would not have been enough to defeat him. "If that thing didn't kill you, then who…?"

"I did." Damien spun around at the sound of the voice, and his heart leapt into his throat. There, standing at the other end of the clearing, was the one from his nightmares, the shadow creature like him. But now that he could see him in broad daylight, he could guess with better clarity who it was.

"Fierce Deity!" he growled. Malon had told him stories of what Link became when he donned the Fierce Deity's mask, and now the manifestation of the evil in Link's heart stood before him, a smug sneer on his tattooed face.

"Some call me that, yes," the dark god said, beginning to make his way across the clearing. "Others, the less informed ones, call me 'Oni Link'. But for our purposes, you may call me Kain. That's the name you knew me by long ago." He stopped in front of the lifeless form of the former Hero of Time, and seemed to smirk even wider as confusion reeled in Damien's mind.

"What are you talking about?" the hero asked. "I've never even seen you before."

Fierce Deity chuckled mirthlessly, giving Damien his coldest glare. "You're an idiot. You don't even remember me? What did that foolish sorcerer do to your brain?"

Damien glared back. "You're just trying to throw me off, aren't you? I don't _play_ mind games, buddy."

The god snorted. "Goddesses, boy! You're so stupid it's sickening. I should strike you down now, just trying to talk to you is making me angry." Still the other looked at him perplexedly, and the smirk returned to his face. "No. I know what would be much more fun." He turned and began to walk back into the forest. "Go warn your Princess about me. Tell her what has happened. We'll talk soon."

"Wha-? Get back here!" Damien drew his knife and ran at Fierce Deity, but the god disappeared into the shadows, and he sliced through empty air. An amused laugh echoed in the air around him, and the voice spoke to him, fading away with the last word.

"Don't worry, boy. You and I will fight, in time…"

To Be Continued

**A/N**: Yes, so… I edited this chapter quite a bit, since I was pretty unhappy with it. Now I like it a lot better. Hopefully others will too. Heh, nasty, mean cliffhanger, eh? What is Fierce Deity talking about? Where has Damien met him before? Or HAS he?

P.S. Yes, I'm giving everyone names in this story. Even though I like calling him Dark, my dear Dark Link needs a more normal name, and I can't just call FD his full name every time, so… yeah.

Please review! Praises and constructive criticism allowed, flames are impolite, so they are not. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Princess's Favor

**Chapter 2: The Princess's Favor**

Back in Hyrule, the land was thrust into mourning at the news of Link's death. In every region tears were shed for the fallen hero; gray clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun and sending soft rain to fall over the land, as though even the Goddesses mourned him. A great funeral was held at Hyrule Castle, and every one of the seven sages was in attendance, even Saria, who had recovered from her traumatic experience and had set up a temporary home in the Deku Tree, with the other Kokiri. Damien watched from a distance as Link's white marble coffin was taken into the Royal Catacombs, carried by the soldiers who had admired him and led by Princess Zelda, who was dressed in a black mourning dress and a veil.

He felt a painful stirring in his heart at the sight. He wished he could have made up for the trouble he had caused before, and had made amends with the hero before he lost his chance. A single cold tear ran down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, trying to erase any thought of the pain from his mind. Turning, he made his way back to the stables, trying to decide what he should tell Malon when he got back to the Ranch.

Shadowmane was trotting about the courtyard, grazing the best bits of grass as the other horses looked on in envy. Damien whistled, and the horse trotted over happily, nudging his shoulder with a big wet nose. He gave him a half-hearted pat on the forehead, then shuffled off into the stables to get the horse's saddle. When he returned, Zelda was standing next to the big animal, scratching it lovingly on the nose. Her face was stained with trails of tears, but she was silent, strong even in her time of suffering. She was forced to be strong for her people.

Damien bowed in respect as he stopped next to the horse. "Your highness," he said formally. She nodded wordlessly for a response, and he straitened and lifted the saddle onto his horse's back. "Did you want to speak with me?"

She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes, trying to compose herself. Then she said, rather softly, "Link isn't dead."

Dark turned to look at her, his task forgotten for the moment. "What do you mean? How can he still be alive?"

She looked at him firmly, and he knew she was not speaking out of emotion. "I know he is. His body is dead, but his soul is still captive somewhere. I fear the Fierce Deity may have taken it." Damien had told her what had happened in the clearing. Now he stared at his feet, wondering. Was it possible? What would he want with Link's soul? "Please, I know it sounds strange," Zelda persisted, a hint of desperation in her voice, "but you must go after him and bring Link back."

"Me? But, your highness, why me?"

"You are the Hero of Time now. You owe your allegiance to Hyrule, and those who rule it, because you are assigned as our protector by destiny. Please, I know it's dangerous, but I can't send soldiers to do this. It takes a skillful warrior, and you are the best in the kingdom." She said this not as flattery, but as fact. It was true; Damien was a born fighter, and the best in Hyrule.

"But I can't defeat a god," Damien insisted. "I'm not nearly as powerful as he is. I doubt that even the Master Sword, given the chance, could stand up to his attacks for long." Zelda slid something off her shoulder, the strap of a long object Damien hadn't noticed before. She placed it in his hands; it was wrapped in black fabric, and when he pulled it off, an elegant sword lay in his hands, one with blue leather wrapped around the handle and a sheath made of the same. The hilt was polished steel, with a large pommel and a gently curving crosspiece.

"It was known in legends as 'Glacia', the blade of ice," she explained. "They say that, save for the Master Sword, it is the most powerful blade in the kingdom. I say it is even more powerful. It was wielded by one of the first knights who served the first King of Hyrule, and he did many great things with its might. But be warned; before the end, it corrupted his soul, and he tried to take over the kingdom. He slew the King, and had to be defeated in battle by the First Knight, his best friend, if the land were to be saved. The first knight wielded the Master Sword, and because of his triumph, the scholars wrote that the Master Sword was the most powerful blade in Hyrule. But I do not believe it was the blade that led the knight to victory." She looked at him with conviction. "I believe it was the strength of the knight's heart."

This last thought resonated within Damien; it was potent to his spirit, no matter how fiercely his mind rebuked such an obvious fairytale. He gave her a weak smile, and then said, "Wish me strength of heart then, Princess. I will go and find Link."

Zelda smiled through the tears that now fell fresh from her eyes. "Thank you," she said quietly. "But one more word of caution; that blade is dangerous. It has been said to claim the wielder's soul. I ask that you use it only in your direst need."

"I give you my word." He slid the blade firmly back into the sheath, and bowed low once more. "I won't fail you, my lady." She nodded slowly, and then headed back to the castle, seeming like a lost ghost in the mist of that cold afternoon. Damien watched her go, feeling the burden of his promise, then turned back to Shadowmane, whispering, "Looks like our adventures aren't really over after all."

An eerie silence hung over Lon Lon Ranch that day. Even the animals could feel that something was wrong; they smelled it in the air. Word had reached the ranch about Link's death, and Malon's eyes were red from sorrowful tears as she went to the stable to feed the horses. The cows lowed sadly, sensing the dismal mood that seemed to be carried in the gloom that had settled over the land.

Damien found her there, singing a soft, sad tune to the animals. She looked around as the stable door slid open, and seeing him, she flung herself into his arms. "Thank the Goddesses!" she sobbed, holding him tightly. "I thought you might be hurt as well!"

"I'm fine," he said gently, comforting her. But something in his voice betrayed him; she drew away to look at his face, and saw that beyond his warm smile, his eyes were grave.

"What's wrong?" She brushed a lock of hair from his face, wet from the weather. He took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips lovingly, wondering what to say and how to tell her.

"Link is still alive."

"What?"

"His soul was stolen. I hate to go; would give anything to stay here with you. But I have to bring him back. Please," he said quickly, seeing the shock in her eyes, "I _have_ to do this. The Princess asked me to…"

"Why does she think you owe her anything?" Malon was furious. "It isn't your fault! Why you?"

"It's not just the Princess." She looked at him in concern as an expression of sadness crossed his face. "I want to make amends with Link. Show him there are no hard feelings. I just…"

"If this is about what happened with Ganondorf…" Damien looked away, and she forced him to look back. "You fixed your mistake. You don't need to prove anything."

"Not to you." She rolled her eyes and turned away, but he caught her before she could storm off. "Please don't be angry with me. I'll come back safe, I promise." She looked at him with smoldering eyes, but tears began to fill them regardless, revealing her worry beyond her stubbornness.

"You had better," she said, unable to keep the sobs from her voice. "I couldn't bear to loose you." He embraced her tightly once more, and she sniffed sadly into his shoulder, not wanting him to see her cry.

Early the next day, he found his supplies and his own plain sword, and strapped them his back, followed hesitantly by Glacia. With a last kiss for his sleeping wife, he saddled up Shadowmane and headed off into Hyrule Field. His horse galloped over the crisp grass with unusual vigor; it smelled an adventure lying ahead, and the battle lust pounded in its veins like fire. Damien shared his energy. It was like old times, back when he first tasted freedom and felt wind in his hair. Electric adrenaline surged through him as he rode towards the forest, feeling the addicting thrill of danger and the first leap into an impossible quest to be faced head-on and conquered. Damien lived for that feeling.

But as they passed into the Lost Woods, the silence of the day before slammed down on them, killing their spirits to some degree with its weight. They picked their way cautiously through the trees, wary of the eyes that seemed to watch them from the shadows, disappearing and reappearing all around them. The path took them deeper into the forest than they had yet been, and the trees grew larger and farther apart, allowing the path to meander between the mammoth trucks. They rode on until the morning grew old, and by that time they had long since slowed their pace to apprehensive walk. The air grew close around them, and the path became cracked with roots and plants until it disappeared in a carpet of weeds and green grass.

Damien dismounted after a while and let his horse graze while he got his bearings. Climbing a tree, he reached the highest, thinnest branches, and then stopped to look around. All he could see for miles was the tops of tall trees, swaying in the calm wind that never got past the canopy to the ground level. Although beautiful, the view was disheartening. He had hoped to see a wide expanse somewhere beyond the trees, a glimpse of the land of Termina, where he expected to find his quarry, but instead, he was left with nothing but crushed hopes.

Slowly, he climbed back down. Once he was back on firm ground, he whistled for Shadowmane, who seemed to have wondered off. No reply. He whistled again. The wind hissed between the leaves of the trees, bringing to him the sound of whinnying from beyond the path. With an alarmed jolt, Damien took off after the sound, ducking under low branches and jumping over rotting logs. The forest swayed about him in an unnatural way, seeming dreamlike and unreal. The light began to change from bright daylight to dim twilight, as though night was already beginning to fall around him. Still on he ran, following the fading pleas of his horse as reality slowly warped around him.

Skidding to a stop at the edge of a clearing, he listened hard as he tried to catch his breath. He heard not a sound, not a rustle in the leaves, nothing. No life stirred in the forest. Damien spotted the mouth of a large tunnel on the opposite end of the clearing. It was made of rough-hewn stone that was pitted with age, and covered in crawling ivy. He took a tentative step towards it, guessing that the horse may have wandered inside, and suddenly a cold blast of wind hit him from behind, whirling around him in a vortex that slowly moved in front of him, forming the shape of a man.

The Fierce Deity stood before him, a cruel, mocking grin on his face. Hatred flared inside Damien; there came the sound of steel on leather, and he lunged at his foe with a battle cry, sword drawn. He slashed at the villain's neck, but the sword simply slid through, as though passing through a beam of light. Damien realized with angry inspiration that the thing in front of him was just an illusion, a ruse.

The image of the dark god chuckled, and disappeared in a flash, only to reappear on the top arch of the tunnel. "Ah, the young hero," the apparition drawled. "So unafraid of the vile things lurking in the very fabric of these loathsome woods! Too bad not as much can be said for his noble steed. Ah well, the beast will find his way home.

"But what of you? What will you decide? You turn back now in defeat, conquered by the evil of the forest, or enter this way and find a world much darker even than the one you dwell in now, a world ruled by the Fierce Deity?" He spread his arms wide, mockingly welcoming. "If you wish to find Link, this is your road. Yes, I am aware of your quest, as I am aware of all things that are secret, and hidden by shadow. But beware; those who enter the kingdom of darkness have been known to change, in strange and sinister ways. Though it may not be too high a price for what you find there, if you are able to escape with your life." With a last sly sneer, the wind picked up again and swept him away, leaving the place as empty as it had been before.

Damien gazed into the tunnel, stirred by a sudden, icy awareness. A great evil lay beyond, he knew; he could feel it in the marrow of his bones. And yet… he was curious. What else did the Fierce Deity know about him? What was beyond this portal? Well, in any case, he knew he couldn't turn back; so he sheathed his sword and strode determinedly into the tunnel, disappearing from sight and from Hyrule. The forest grew quiet once more, barren but for a small string of fairy dust that flitted into the clearing, circling quietly in the air, as though waiting.

To Be Continued

**A/N**: So, edited a whole lot, actually, second time. I had to take out the first bit because it didn't fit in with the first chapter, since I edited it. Now this one's really short. -- But anyways…

I just reread DLL, and I'm happy to see that, as I perceive it, the feel is certainly different, as the feel is different between the two games (Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask). This is good; it's important that both stories are similar, but also very different. Keeps things interesting.

Anyway, I would like to thank those who have read Dark Link's Legacy and this story up to this point. Thanks for hanging in there, those who had to wait forever for updates, and had to sit through my rambling Author's Notes (which you don't have to read, I don't mind). Since I didn't post a disclaimer at the beginning of the first chapter, I'll put one here at the bottom. Thanks again!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any place, person, or thing mentioned in this story except for original characters, objects, places, or concepts, and the story itself, obviously. Please do not use any of my ideas unless given permission.


	3. Wandering Shadows

**Chapter 3: Wandering Shadows **

The Mayor of Clock Town was having a bad day. He had woken up, as he usually did, to his wife yelling at him for no particularly good reason. Now, as he sat in his office, the captain of the guard was yelling at him, as he did frequently, and this time it was about Sakon, the thief. He had been pillaging and plaguing the townspeople for some time now, and the captain was getting sick of it. So, naturally, he took his frustration out on the Mayor, who he deemed responsible.

"We have to do _something_!" the captain was yelling. "Sakon has made a complete nuisance of himself, and the town is in an outrage! Why don't you let me take a troop of guards up into Ikana Canyon and capture him once and for all?"

"But…you know what… _lurks_ up there," the Mayor replied defensively, wringing his hands nervously. "Spirits! _Violent_ ones, whole armies of them! I'm not sending anyone up there from this town, not a soul. If Sakon wants to risk his life there, so be it, but I won't be responsible…"

"_Ghosts_!" The captain's face was beet red. "You're preventing me from getting rid of a criminal because of a bunch of _ghosts_? That's **it**! That is the final straw!" The captain turned and stormed out of the Mayor's office, stomping through the lobby to the front door. He was closely followed by the Mayor, who shot an apologetic glance at the alarmed receptionist before hurrying after the disgruntled captain.

"Wh-where are you going?" he stuttered, scurrying after him on his short legs.

"To Ikana!" said the guard. "If you won't let me send troops up there and find him, I'll go myself!" He seized the handle of the door and pulled it open, stepping into the bright sunlight. "I will see Sakon in jail, come Hell or high wa-"

THUD! They both jumped as something heavy was dropped at their feet. Looking down, they saw it was none other than Sakon himself, bound hand and foot and gagged. He made pitiful gurgling noises as he gazed up at the two confused figures, and they stared back, wondering what was going on. Glancing up, they saw that a crowd had gathered outside the building; in the middle stood a single, small figure, whose face was shrouded in the shadows of its hood. The hood was connected to a large, roughly woven cloak that covered most of its body, ending at its knees; only its legs were visible, and they were heavily bound in dust-stained bandages. It gazed at them quietly from the darkness that concealed it, and its eyes seemed to glow a dull green.

The two stared wide-eyed at the figure; the Mayor shook visibly. "G-…g-g-ghost…" he whispered urgently to the captain.

"Get a grip on yourself, Mayor," the captain whispered back, studying the stranger out of the corner of his eye. It was too solid, too real to be a ghost; it was obviously very much alive, and, if it had truly caught and captured Sakon all by itself, it was very strong for its size, maybe even dangerous. The captain inched toward it cautiously, keeping one hand on the hilt of his sword, until he stood only a couple feet away. Then, fighting to keep a tone of authority in his voice, he asked, "You did this?"

The figure nodded, not making a sound. Then it lifted its hand, and they saw it was bound in bandages as well. It held the hand out towards the captain in an expectant way, as though wanting something. The captain smirked.

"Of course, you want a reward. Well, you have done the town a great service; what is it that you want?"

At first, the figure paused, as though unsure what to say. Then it spoke, and its voice was hushed and gravelly with disuse, like wind through the branches of trees. "Soluna."

Everyone stared blankly. Nobody knew what it was talking about. Annoyed, the creature said it again, louder and more clearly. The Mayor simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but what is Soluna?" he asked. The creature tensed, as though cursing his stupidity. It seized a rock from the ground and began to draw a picture on the paved street, making quick, furious strokes. When it was finished, it stood up and pointed, so that all leaned forward to have a better look.

It was a drawing of the sun and the moon intertwined, with the rays of the moon falling in line with the rays of the sun. It was no bigger than the hand of the creature, who pointed at it and said, once again, "Soluna."

"Ah!" said the Mayor, seeming to be pleased with himself. "I've seen that before!" The crowd looked at him curiously; the stranger studied him earnestly. "Yes. My grandfather once told me of the time when the King of Ikana visited this town, bringing with him a token of peace, which was a sort of key that looked exactly like that drawing. It was given to the Mayor at the time so that this town and the Kingdom of Ikana would ever remain allies, and never enemies. Then Ikana experience a horrible civil war, and fell to ruin, and the token was lost. It was lost in the time of my father; I have only seen the key once, and that was a long time ago."

The hope that been building inside the stranger was lost at these words. It hung its head, the very picture of dejection. The Mayor felt pity towards the stranger. "I'm sorry we couldn't help," he said. "I'm sure if it is found, I can…" The stranger nodded slowly, but it seemed doubtful. After giving Sakon a spiteful kick in the stomach, it shuffled off towards the town's east entrance to Termina Field, and the crowd parted to let him pass. As he disappeared around the corner, the Mayor said to himself, "I wonder what it wanted it so badly for?"

The figure walked slowly between the giant pillars in the east of Termina Field, making its way towards Ikana Canyon. It stopped suddenly and sat at the base of one of the pillars, letting its hood down. Now that it was not in shadow, the creature's face was clearly that of a young boy, with dark hair and eyes. His skin was tanned and weathered, and his long, pointed ears drooped a little. He ran a bandaged hand through his hair, sighing heavily. He had been looking for the Soluna for a very long time, almost a year, and when he had heard it was last seen in the Town, he had been so hopeful. But as usual, it wasn't there, just as it wasn't anywhere else he'd looked.

"I'm sorry, Master," he said, though he was alone in the field. "I have failed you again."

The tunnel was small and cold. Damien drew his cloak closer about him as he strode steadily forward, conscious of the echoes of his footsteps trickling before him and behind him, dangerously loud in the quiet. He didn't notice immediately, but the air around him began to change, feeling denser and darker like heavy shroud. The walls of the tunnel glowed with an eerie light; he realized that it was the same sort of light as the forest. He was in the Fierce Deity's kingdom now, and the safety of his world was behind him.

Gradually, he came to the end of the tunnel, and stepped out into the light of a bright afternoon. The sun warmed him, and its light made everything around him look less sinister than the darkness had. Shielding his eyes, he looked out over Termina Field, feeling an awe that he hadn't felt since seeing Hyrule for the first time.

He was standing near a large blue building, the function of which he couldn't quite guess. Beneath his feet, healthy green grass rolled away over hills towards a forest on his left, towards a canyon on his right, and on the farthest reaches of his sight, he could see high mountains, even a beach. He was suddenly struck with the urge to explore, to figure out what all that white was, to see the ocean. But his quest hung over him like a heavy cloud, and he knew he didn't have time to waste. Ignoring the blue building, he took off over the grass, headed for the huge wall sitting in the middle of the field, dominating his view. Doubtless it would be a city, and there was an entrance close to him, near the canyon section of the field.

The boy sitting beneath a pillar was pondering his next move when he heard footsteps nearby. Acting on instinct, he hid in the shadow of the pillar, perfectly still, waiting. When the intruder came near, he watched him around the corner, noting how strange he looked in contrast to his surroundings. A stranger to the land… but was he friend or foe? The boy replaced the hood over his head and slowly stalked towards the stranger, ready for a fight if one came.

Damien sensed something nearby, and stopped. Looking around, he saw two points of green light and drew his sword. Before he could even breathe, light flashed over steel, and suddenly there were two blades at his throat, crossed at the base of his neck. Two glowing eyes bored into his. Sweat dripped down his face as he wondered if this thing meant to kill him.

But then the boy pulled away, swords still drawn. His hood fell back from his face, and Damien was shocked to see he was just a kid. "Who are you?" the boy demanded. "Where do you come from? I know you aren't from the town."

Damien rubbed his neck, and was happy to find that he wasn't cut anywhere. "You're right," he said carefully. "I don't live here. I'm just here to find someone."

"I can tell you where they are. I know everything you'll need to know," bragged the boy. "But you have to answer my questions first!"

"Listen, I don't have time for this. I don't want to fight, I don't want to talk. I have something important to do." He sheathed his sword and turned to leave, but the boy still called out to him.

"You'll never find who you're looking for without my help!" he called. "I know this whole country better than anyone! I…" Damien looked back, and saw the boy clutching his stomach, groaning. Then it was clear. This kid had nothing to eat, nobody to talk to. He was just bugging him for the attention. Damien suddenly pitied him. With a sigh, he turned back and knelt so he was at eye level with the kid.

"Listen, if you are serious about knowing everything, I'll pay for your help. My name is Damien, and I'm from the land of Hyrule."

The boy smiled. "My name is Krix, and I'm the greatest fighter in the world."

Damien soon found himself seated next to the boy in the shade, sharing some of the food he had brought with him. As he watched Krix, as he called himself, gobbling down food faster than he'd thought possible, he wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Soon the boy was full and satisfied, and he leaned back against the pillar. "Where's Hyrule?" he asked, looking at Damien. "I've never even heard of that place."

"It's some ways from here," was the answer. He wasn't sure himself. "It seems pretty different from this place, then again, I haven't seen much here."

"Well, don't go into town," Krix suggested. "They're all really weird there." He picked something out of his teeth before speaking again. "So, who are you looking for?"

Damien then realized he didn't know where to look for Link's soul. He had just assumed the Fierce Deity had it, but he doubted anyone would tell him where their leader was in a hurry. "Who is the King of this land?" he ventured, figuring that would be a harmless question.

"There isn't a King of Termina," said Krix, as though this was obvious. "The only king in the whole country is the Deku King, and he's just king of the Dekus."

"Doesn't anyone call this place their Kingdom?"

"If they do, they're crazy. The Town is run by this weird mayor, the Zoras and Gorons just have leaders, and me…" He looked at Damien with a sly grin. "Nobody tells _me_ what to do. I do whatever I want."

Damien rested his head on his hand. He could already tell this kid had let his fighting ability go to his head, and that his ego has swollen to twice his size. It was going to be difficult, working with him. "Why don't you just tell me the name of the person you want to find?" said the kid, interrupting his thoughts. "That's easier than asking about kings."

But Damien was confused. The Fierce Deity had said that this was his kingdom, yet he wasn't the king. Maybe he was the god of this world. That would be even worse. "Have you heard of the Fierce Deity?" he asked Krix, knowing he might not like the answer.

But Krix had to think for a minute. "I've heard of a Fierce Deity _mask_," he said finally. "I heard it was a mask that granted the wearer the power of a god, but it was full of a terrible evil. Anyone who wore it became cursed."

"Any idea what the curse was?"

"No. It's only talked about in legends. Nobody knows if it actually exists."

"I do. It does exist, and I knew the one who found it. The god who was in the mask, the Fierce Deity, somehow got out, and now I need to defeat him." Krix looked at him in amazement. Then he did something that surprised Damien; he stood up and bowed with his arms crossed over his chest, the traditional Garo salute.

"I want to help you," the boy said, his eyes glittering with excitement. To go on a quest against evil, one that might aid him in his own quest, seemed like the perfect thing to do.

"Hang on," Damien said, "this is serious. I'm talking about challenging a god here, not a pack of Moblins."

"I know. I still want to help. I'll do anything I can. Please take me with you!"

Damien thought about it for a while, and then said, "Fine, ok, but I'll fight the Deity on my own, if we even get there. Deal?"

"Deal!" Krix smiled widely. "Don't worry, you won't regret bringing me along. Two heroes are better than one, after all."

To be Continued…

**Review Response**: Sorry I forgot to reply to reviewers last chapter! You were all very kind, thanks for telling me how you liked my story!

**Wanchoo – **Thank you for reading my story! Heehee, don't let Fierce Deity mess up your house! He's uber ebil. X3

**Metal248** – I'm flattered to hear I'm favorite-worthy, especially on that chapter, which I don't think is as good as the second one. Thanks!

**Blondie91 – **Nice to see you again! It's ok, I'm pretty weird too, so I won't be all freaked out by happy dances. Lol. 

**Trevylan – **Please, don't flamethrower my house! O.O Haha, just kidding. I shall update soon, and don't worry; the mystery of FD ruling Termina will be solved in time. Until then, you'll have to wait in agony for the answer. Ain't I a stinker?

**The Twilight Princess – **Yay! Glad you liked the first one. I know the curse of sequels, how they sometimes don't add up to the first, but I'm determined to make this one just as good as DLL.


	4. Riddles and Answers

**Chapter 4: Riddles and Answers**

Despite Krix's warning, Damien decided he had to go into town to buy more food, and perhaps try and get some information about the goings-on of the land of Termina. Leaving Krix at the entrance (since he refused to go back in), he strolled into East Clock Town, looking around at his suddenly strange and alien surroundings with tourist-like interest.

Large shops sat around the perimeter of the area, and the ground was paved in cobblestones. The walls and shop fronts were brightly painted, and tall torches stood in the squares to provide light during the night. Colorful flags fluttered in the wind, and townspeople drifted through the streets, going about their daily routines. Damien strolled as he looked, and people stared at him; the Carnival of Time had ended months ago, and there weren't usually visitors any other time of the year. But he didn't care; he simply kept walking, and wandered deeper into Clock Town.

He was amazed to see how big the town really was, as he continued to explore the other areas. None of the towns in Hyrule were this big, not even Kakariko Village. He found a food stall in the square of South Clock Town, and after purchasing what he needed, he stood eating an apple as he gazed up at the giant clock tower that loomed above the town.

Something bothered him about the clock tower. It wasn't the way it looked, or the way it steadily counted down the minutes of the day. It was a strange sort of ominous feeling that washed over him as he looked at it, the presence of something foreboding, silently watching all that occurred below. His hand drifted subconsciously to the hilt of his sword; he thought he saw the silhouette of a figure standing at the very top of the tower, turning to look down at him.

"Sir?" Damien turned to see the lady running the food stall looking at him. "Sir, is there anything else you need?"

He gave her a small smile. "No, I'm set, thanks." She nodded, turning to another customer that had just walked up. He glanced back at the tower, but nobody was there. Shouldering his pack, he shook off the weird feeling and strolled back towards North Clock Town.

When he got there, he was annoyed to see that he had gotten turned around; he had meant to go to East Clock Town. He was about to turn and leave, when someone called out to him. "You there! Do you need a map?" Glancing around, he didn't see anyone aside from him in the area. "Up here!" He looked up, and was startled and slightly disturbed to see a middle-aged man wearing green spandex tied to a big red balloon, floating above the town. "Hello there!" said the man, waving energetically at him. "Tingle has maps for sale! Tingle would show them to you, but…" he looked around himself, "he is having trouble getting down." He gave Damien a sheepish grin.

Damien just stared uncomfortably at him. This guy was definitely on the odd side. But he'd been wrong about people before… Besides, a map might come in handy, in case Krix got them lost somewhere. With a shrug, he looked around on the ground for a rock, and finding one, he aimed carefully and chucked it at the big red balloon.

The man in green's eyes grew wide in terror, but the rock missed him, popping the balloon. With a cry of fear, the man plummeted to the ground, landing hard on his feet. Damien winced, thinking that he had hurt him, but the man seemed to take the pain pretty well, and recovered quickly. Walking over, Damien saw the man draw not one, but five different scrolls of paper from his bag, displaying each for Damien to see. They were marked separately; Field, Canyon, Sea, Mountain, and Swamp. "These are maps that Tingle made himself," the man said proudly. "Tingle is selling maps to help his father. Would you like to see one?"

Cautiously, Damien drew one from the pile, the one marked Field. Opening it, he was surprised to see that, though a bit sloppy, the map was fairly accurate, showing the town and the surrounding Termina Field. The other maps were similarly made; Tingle beamed as Damien nodded his approval. "You like, yes?" the strange man asked. "The map of town is for 5 rupees, the others are for 40 each. But you may buy all of them for a bargain, yes, good bargain! Just 150 rupees!"

Damien frowned as he realized that that was all the money he had left, 150 rupees. If he bought all the maps, he'd be broke, but then again, he wasn't sure how much he could trust Krix to keep them from getting lost, despite the confidence the kid had in himself. So he reluctantly handed over the money he had, and Tingle grinned from ear to ear as he handed over the pile of maps.

"Hurray! You make Tingle so happy!" said Tingle, jumping from one foot to the other in his joy. Damien just smiled awkwardly as he stuffed the maps into his pack, hoping he hadn't just made a mistake. "So happy, in fact, that Tingle must give you this as well!" He held out another yellowed scroll of parchment, and Damien gave him an annoyed look. "You may have it free of charge!" the man insisted. "It is a treasure map of great value. Tingle found it in his wanderings. It will show you the greatest treasure in the world."

Damien rolled his eyes, then relented and took the scroll, putting it beside his maps. "It is for you," explained the little man, "because you are the only one Tingle has sold a map to in a very long time. Nobody wants to see new places, so nobody wants maps! But you have bought five of my maps, so Tingle can send the money to his father, and he will not be so ashamed of him." Damien sighed heavily. Was he here to solve everyone's problems? It was turning out that way. "Tingle tingle, kooloo limpah!" the little man said, tossing confetti and doing a backflip. "Those are Tingle's magic words. Don't steal them!"

"I won't," Damien assured him, already heading quickly towards the exit and pulling out his town map, eager not to get sidetracked again.

Krix was waiting impatiently for him when he finally left through the correct exit to the field. "I guess you were right," Damien said to him, trying to erase his memory of Tingle from his mind. "People are really weird here."

"Told you," said Krix, arms crossed. "I know everything, remember? You just have to _trust_ me, ok?"

"Sure kid."

"I'm not a kid. I can tear your arms off without even breaking a sweat, and don't you forget it." He began to stroll off in a southerly direction, and Damien followed wearily, rubbing the side of his head.

"Where are we going now?"

"To the swamp witches'. They're the only ones in Termina weirder than the townspeople, but they're a lot smarter. I get all my really strange information from them. Maybe they'll know where to find this Deity guy."

As they slowly made ground over the field, Damien let his thoughts wander. He thought about what the Fierce Deity had said the first day they met in the forest, and what he said at their second meeting. It all seemed like a big riddle to him. The god called himself Kain, and said that they had met before, but Damien didn't remember that. Actually, he didn't really remember anything before a couple years ago. He used to remember things that Link had once experienced, but those memories were almost completely gone. Even his battle with Link and his days spent in the Water Temple seemed like a dream.

As for the rest of his message, Fierce Deity had implied that Damien might be changed by this place. It was true, he had felt a little different since the moment he stepped out of the tunnel, but he couldn't quite place how. He suspected that it was just the unusual level of dark energy in the land, and _that_ he could handle. He'd been in plenty of dark places before, and it hadn't done anything to him then. At least, he was pretty sure it hadn't…

"Hey!" He looked to see Krix had stopped, and was standing near the entrance to another road that wound away from the field and into a swamp. "Do you have to walk so slowly? It will be nightfall by the time we get there if you don't hurry up." So Damien ran to catch up with him, and they entered the swamp together.

"You daydream too much," said Krix, arms crossed as he walked beside Damien. "If you want to kill a god, you have to pay atten-…"

A howl cut across his words, and the earth exploded in front of the two as a pair of Wolfos erupted from the ground, eyes ablaze with the craving to kill. These were normal Wolfos, not like the giant shadowy creature Damien killed in the Lost Woods, but they were enough of a threat that he drew his sword, preparing for an easy fight.

He never got the chance; Krix leapt past him in a blur, and his twin blades stabbed and sliced through the air, dancing in the dim sunlight. The Wolfos howled in defeat and sank to the ground, unmoving. Krix stood over their bodies like the shadow of death, swords dripping with fresh blood. He turned to Damien with a cocky smile. "Too easy."

Damien just stared in awe at him as he cleaned his blades on the rough grass. "How did you do that?" he asked. He had killed them so quickly; it was almost surreal.

The swords disappeared under Krix's cloak as he hid them again. "We Garo are trained to kill quickly and silently," he said simply. "We don't charge into battle without thinking, like most warriors. We pick out the enemy's weak point and strike true, so we don't waste energy hacking things to death." He shrugged. "I told you, I'm the best fighter in the world. All Garos are. Well, were, I mean." He looked at the ground, saddened by the thought, but before Damien could ask about it, he shook it off. "Come on, this way," he said, and they headed down the road once again, ignoring the monsters that now fled from them in fear.

When they reached the end of the road, they saw what looked like a lake stretching around a small mountain. A building sat on stilts above the water a little ways offshore, connected to land by a long dock, to which was tied several small boats, as well as a larger boat stationed under the building. A sign was posted above the door, reading: Swamp Tourist Center and Boat Rentals. Krix led the way down the dock, and they climbed up the ladder to the entrance, passing through the door into a large room.

At one side of the room stood a large, burly man, who was mumbling something about fairies. Krix ignored him, and crossed the room to a small dark window, where two bright eyes could be seen looking out at them. "Hello, Miss Koume," he said to the figure owning the eyes.

"Krix!" said a creaky voice happily, drawing out the "i" in his name. "We haven't seen you in a while, dearie. Have you come to stay for tea?"

"That would be nice. Is Miss Kotake there?"

"She should be. I'll be getting off work soon, so why don't you just head on over? Oh, and bring your handsome friend, too." A sound that was a cackle of a giggle came from the window as Damien turned a little red in the face.

"See you soon!" said Krix, and he led Damien out of the building and back down the ladder. He was untying a boat from the dock when he heard Damien finally speak.

"Well, at least you're polite to somebody," he said pointedly. Krix gave him a look.

"You are not a nice old lady. You are a warrior. And I need to toughen you up a lot, if you want to fight like me and not get kicked around by that Fierce Deity person." He tossed the anchoring line into the boat and hopped in, motioning for Damien to follow, which he did. "You get to row," he told him.

"What?"

"We have to train those scrawny arms of yours, so row. You know how, right?" Blank stare. Krix sighed. "It's easy, just do this." He made a circular motion with his hands, leaning back a little, and Damien took the oars and mimicked him. The boat lurched forward. "Good, keep doing that. It's not far away." So Damien rowed the boat to the nearby shore, getting instructions from Krix on how to turn, or to watch out for rocks. It was humbling, having to be bossed around by someone half his age, and he prayed to the goddesses that nobody was watching.

When the water got shallow enough, they hoped out and dragged the boat onto the shore, then proceeded up the road to a clearing. There was another building, built up out of the water like the previous one, but it was shaped like a large jar with a handle. They splashed through the shallow pond and went up another ladder to the top before Krix turned to Damien. "Just to tell you, the witches are really ugly," he warned in a whisper, "but they're nice. And the tea is gross, but you can just pretend you drank it all and dump it in a plant when they look away." Damien nodded his thanks, wondering once again what he'd gotten himself into as they slipped inside.

The potion shop consisted of only a single, rather small room that was taken up mostly by large vats and the shop's counter. Cauldrons bubbled in corners, filling the air with a strong perfume and bathing the walls in rosy pink and poison green light. The witch behind the counter was nodding off as they approached her, and Krix prodded her gently with a finger. "Miss Kotake?"

She looked up groggily at him, blinking owlishly, then seemed to recognize him. "Ah, so there you are! I had a feeling you were coming today. Who's your friend?"

"His name is Damien. We have some important questions to ask you and Miss Koume, if you don't mind."

As if on cue, the door to the shop burst open, and there was another old lady that looked remarkably like the first. Krix saw Damien staring and explained that they were twins, but that wasn't it; he thought he recognized them from somewhere, but he couldn't place just where.

As the three others chatted like friends do, Damien felt something at the back of his mind. Slowly, a memory resurfaced from deep in his thoughts; he stood before Ganondorf in the Water Temple, and there were the twins, floating on wither side of them on their broomsticks, watching him with nasty smiles. Koume and Kotake…

His hand leapt to his sword and he drew it, leveling it at the two. "You!" he said, pulling Krix back protectively as they looked at him in confusion and mild alarm.

"What are you doing!" cried Krix, pulling out of his grasp

"They're allies of Ganondorf!" The witches looked at each other, obviously having no idea what he was talking about.

"Ganondorf?" Kotake echoed. "I've never heard of a Ganondorf before."

"Me either," said Koume, shrugging. He stared at them blankly, wondering what the heck was going on, when Krix forced his sword arm down.

"Are you crazy?" he said. "They are just a couple of nice old ladies! They are not enemies!" Damien saw this was true, and it was his turn to be confused. He sat down heavily onto a nearby crate and rubbed his head with his free hand, trying to sort it out in his mind.

"Poor thing," said Kotake, shaking her head. "The swamp fumes must be getting to him. Don't worry, you'll get used to it shortly."

Krix sat next to Damien, watching him in concern. The latter looked up at the witches, realizing he'd made a mistake. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just… thought you were somebody else. You see…" He explained about to witches named Kotake and Koume from his own world, who looked just like them. They were the mentors to Ganondorf, a powerful sorcerer that almost enslaved the land forever, but they had been killed by a great hero, and Ganondorf had been defeated as well. He was amazed at how much he remembered now; he didn't even realize he knew this information.

When he was finished, the sisters pondered this new information. "Interesting coincidence, eh?" Koume asked her sister.

"Or is it?" Kotake said, completing the thought. She looked Damien square in the eye. "Have you heard of the Legend of the Darkworld?" she asked him.

To Be Continued

**A/N:** Ooo, another mean nasty cliffhanger! I'm so evil. : K

So, longer chapter this time, lots of good stuff. Next chapter should be good as well. (shifty eyes) See you then!


	5. The Deku Palace

**Chapter 5: The Deku Palace**

At the beginning of time, three goddesses descended from the Heavens to an empty world below. Their names were Nayru, goddess of Wisdom; Din, Goddess of Power; and Farore, Goddess of Courage. Din created the earth with her skillful hands, followed swiftly by Farore, who filled the earth with life. Nayru blessed the land with law, to allow the new life forms to live in peace together, and then the goddesses return to the heavens, leaving behind the Triforce, which was the symbol of balance between the goddesses' three virtues.

_As they did this, three others watched from the Realm of the Gods. They were Kain, God of Chaos; Arkel, God of Destruction; and Oren, God of Death. They were all dark gods, and brothers of the three Golden Goddesses. They observed their sisters' work with interest, and when they saw the newly created Kingdom of Hyrule flourish, their interest turned to envy. They reasoned among themselves that they could create a kingdom that was just as good, or even better. So they created a second earth in the shadow of the first, and called the land Termina. _

_It was truly a great chore, and when they had finished, they were proud of the work they had done. But their land was built of darkness, and when compared to Hyrule, a land of light, it did not seem as beautiful, or as wonderful. Still the brothers longed for Hyrule for themselves, secretly and separately, but they could not hide this from each other for long. _

_Soon, a quarrel broke out between Kain and Arkel. Both wanted to reign supreme over Hyrule, and neither wanted to compromise. Oren, who was by nature an uncaring god, stayed out of the fray completely; he was content as long as he was able to reap the souls of the dead. And so a fight broke out between his two brothers, which turned into a heated battle. The clash of their swords sent sparks of war into the air, churning the sky into a fierce storm and flaming the fears and prejudices between the races of Hyrule and Termina. Civil wars broke out in both lands, spilling the blood of thousands onto the new earth and its shadow._

_The goddesses despaired, wondering what would become of their beloved Hyrule, but at the bidding of Nayru, they did not intervene. Soon they would act, she assured her sisters, but not now. So they waited, and watched the worlds tear themselves apart. _

_Finally, the battle seemed to be dying down; both gods were tiring, their strength ebbing. Arkel, who was by nature a better fighter, soon had Kain pinned, on the very edge of the Realm of the Gods. Arkel stood gloating over him, prepared to strike him down and let him fall all the way to Hyrule, which lay far below them. Kain, however, was far craftier than he, and he was able to suddenly grab Arkel and fling him over the edge. As Arkel plummeted ever downward, Nayru gave the signal, and the goddesses attacked. _

_They fell upon Kain, capturing his spirit and sealing it into a mask. Then they placed it in the moon above Termina, so that it would not fall into evil hands. They watched as Arkel crashed into the world below, where he lay weak but alive. Oren offered to strike him down and take his soul, but the goddesses said no. Let the world he had maimed deal with him the way it liked. Then they turned and looked no longer upon him, seeking only to repair the damage he and Kain had done._

"That is how the legend is told," said Kotake softly, sipping her tea. "Nobody knows what happened to the two gods after that. From your description, I would say that your enemy, the Fierce Deity, is Kain, the God of Chaos. He must have been somehow released from his mask and the moon, presumably when the Skullkid called down the moon to crash into the earth."

"Anyway," added Koume, "our land of Termina is a very dark place. I would not be surprised for a minute if it really was the shadow of Hyrule, and if we were but copies of those who exist, or existed, in that realm."

"And that doesn't… bother you?" asked Damien; he and Krix had been listening closely the whole time.

"Does it bother me that we are copies? Not at all. We may be the mirror images of someone else, but we have are own feelings, and personalities. I'm not sure who the Koume and Kotake of your world were, but they certainly don't sound like us."

"No, they certainly do not!" laughed Kotake. Krix looked up at Damien.

"Told you again! See, they _are_ nice." Damien had to agree. They weren't at all offended by his accusations, even when he pulled a sword on them. They were just two peaceful sisters who were trying to get by.

"Now," Koume had a serious tone. "You say you want to challenge Kain? That is quite a task. It would be foolish for a mortal to do so; even his own brother was defeated by him."

"I have to," insisted Damien. "He took something very valuable, and I promised someone I would get it back."

"Is it more valuable than your life?"

Damien paused. "Is the soul of a hero more valuable than my life? I don't know. I wouldn't be much use if I couldn't bring it back, though, so dying really isn't an option."

"Then you must find a way to become more powerful. I sense that there is more to you than meets the eye, some hidden power inside. Think about that."

"Meanwhile," Kotake said, "you will need some way to bring the battle to him. Fighting him on earth would be folly, since he has control over this land. You must have a way to fight him on his own ground, in the Realm of the Gods. Legend speaks of a way, a magic mirror that lets the user travel between worlds. However, this mirror was broken long ago, and its pieces were scattered about Termina and Hyrule. You will need to find these pieces and reassemble them if you wish to use the mirror to reach your foe. I know of one piece, which resided at the bottom of this swamp until recently, when it was found by a worker on the boat cruise. It was offered to the Deku King as a present, so that he would allow the cruise to continue stopping at his Palace."

"I did not know what is was immediately," admitted Koume, "but now I know it could not be anything else. I don't know why it has appeared just now, but I don't think it as a coincidence. Strange forces are moving in this land, and in Hyrule too, no doubt, and I'll be surprised if it didn't have something to do with you, Damien."

"Unfortunately, that is all the information we able to give you," Kotake finished. "After you have gotten the shard, you will be on your own. I hope what we have told you will be useful."

Damien got to his feet and bowed low to them in gratitude. "Thank you," he said. "I know this information will make things very clear. We should go now, if you don't mind."

"Oh, no trouble dearie." Kotake smiled widely. "You two should come by more often, I look forward to these little chats."

"Bye!" Krix waved as they left the hut, leaving the two witched to argue about which of their counterparts from Hyrule was probably better looking. The boys were quiet all the way back to the boat as they sorted out all they had heard. Damien, surprisingly, wasn't discouraged upon hearing that he would be facing a nearly impossible task; instead, he felt an unexplainable burning hatred towards Kain, and he was intrigued by the "hidden power" the witches had mentioned. He knew he would discover what that was, and he walked quickly in his eagerness to get going, so that Krix had to hurry to keep up.

"Hey! What are you in such a rush for?" Krix ran ahead and hopped in the boat, instead of helping Damien push it off the shore first. "You are still too weak to fight anything."

"So I'll get stronger," Damien replied, pushing the boat into the lake with some effort. "You're going to help me, right?"

"Sure I will. But you have to do everything I say." Damien hopped into the boat and started to row out into deeper water. "The palace is over that way." Damien followed Krix's finger, and they began to move steadily in the opposite direction of the tourist center. "And by the way, it is not going to be easy to get into the palace."

"Figures. Why not?"

"The Deku King does not trust anyone who is not a Deku. He calls them 'outsiders'. He does not even let normal Dekus into his palace, only members of the court. He has guards out front, and the only other way in is through the gardens, and they are full of guards too."

"We'll have to talk our way in. Don't worry, I have a plan."

They reached the palace gates as the sun began to set in the west, and all of the swamp was awash in orange light. Leaving their boat at the dock, they passed through the unguarded opening into a secluded clearing. In the middle of a pond sat the palace, its high walls blocking their view of the gardens. A winding log bridge spanned the waters from the palace to the shore, and the two stepped carefully along it, careful not to slip into the murky waters below.

When they reached the walls, two Dekus sprang up from the ground, blocking their way. "What business do you have at the palace of the King of Dekus?" squeaked one of the guards, in a slightly aggressive tone.

Damien spoke up. "We have an urgent message for the King," he said. "We know of an artifact in his possession that is very dangerous, and we must warn him immediately."

"We don't generally allow outsiders inside the palace," said the other guard. "The boy who saved the princess is the only one we trust these days."

"But this is urgent! The safety of the King is at stake."

"I'm sorry, we cannot let you through."

Damien sighed dramatically. "Alright. It would be a shame though, if the King were to be hurt by the explosion."

"Explosion!" the Dekus echoed in alarm. "What explosion?"

"Didn't I tell you? The artifact is dangerous. It could explode any time if we don't take it out of the swamp. The fumes agitate its magical structure."

The Dekus looked at each other in shock. "Oh my!" said the first. "I had no idea! Go right ahead down this hallway, to the room at the end. Go **strait** down this hallway, and hurry!" They sank into the ground to let the two pass, and Damien and Krix walked quickly towards the throne room.

"I did not know you were such a good liar," whispered Krix once they were out of earshot.

"I've had a lot of practice," replied Damien slyly.

When they entered the throne room, all of the King's court looked around in alarm. "What is the meaning of this!" cried the King, infuriated. "Guards!"

"Wait, your Majesty," Damien said quickly, "we came to warn you of a dangerous artifact in your palace. It's a shard of a mirror, and its very fragile magical structure will break if we don't take it out of the swamp."

"Lies!" the King said immediately. "I've had this shard you speak of for nearly a month, and it's perfectly fine. You simply want the shard for yourself! But I won't give my precious mirror to you. It is mine, and no one else's! Guards, throw them out!"

"Please, listen to me!" But Damien's pleas were ignored; a group of guards came forward and seized them, dragging them out of the room and tossing them out of the palace with surprising strength. They landed hard on the log bridge, nearly falling off into the water.

"And don't come back!" yelled a guard, before he disappeared once again below the ground.

Krix leapt to his feet, infuriated. "I knew that was not going to work! That big blowhard! He never listens. He would probably let his palace blow up before he could trust an outsider. Why not go in there and take it by force? We are stronger than them."

"We can't do that," Damien said, getting slowly to his feet. "We can't make enemies of the Dekus. We just have to think of something else."

"A-hem." They turned to see a tall, proper-looking Deku standing behind them. "Forgive his Majesty for his rude behavior. His temper is a bother to us all. I have a note for you." He held out a scrap of paper to them, and Damien took it and read it. It said:

_Meet me at the palace gates at midnight._

_I will give you the mirror._

Damien turned it over, but there was no signature on it anywhere. "Thank you," he said to the butler, and the Deku bowed slightly and walked back to the palace. Krix took the paper and read it.

"Who is it from?" he asked; Damien shrugged.

"Doesn't say. Should we trust them?"

"Well, if it is from a Deku, we don't really have much to worry about, right? What is the worst they could do?"

So they returned to the gates that night at midnight, and found a small figure waiting for them in the dark. Upon closer inspection, they saw it was, to their surprise, the Deku Princess.

"Thank you for coming," she whispered as they approached. "I know you were just trying to help today. This mirror had caused us nothing but trouble since my father got it. I don't know what he sees when he looks into it, but it makes him even less tolerable than usual." She held out the shard to them, and it glinted eerily in the moonlight.

"Don't worry," said Damien, reaching for it. "We'll be sure it's safe, and…" he hesitated, wondering what he was seeing reflected in the shard. Two glowing yellow eyes, then three more; suddenly, there were twenty eyes gazing up at him from the mirror.

Looking up, he froze in fear; a huge _thing_, eyes glowing, was balanced on the gates above their heads, a black silhouette against the evening sky. Its many legs shifted as it leaned over towards him, fangs dripping with thick saliva. Unable to move, he stood hypnotized by the giant spider's gaze. Krix, who had looked up just after him, yelled a warning and tackled him to the ground as the thing lunged at him, just missing him by inches. Damien snapped out of it just in time to her a horrified scream; the Princess had been snagged by the giant Skulltula, and it scrambled over the gates with her in its fangs.

"After it!" Krix yelled, up and running in an instant, swords drawn. Damien stumbled to his feet and ran after him, once again entering through the gates and pounding over the log bridge. The spider scuttled through the water with its long legs, climbing the outer wall into the gardens, and they pushed past the startled guards and entered through the hallway.

Immediately, Damien lost sight of Krix; then he saw him again, leaping over the high platforms in the garden towards where the spider was perched on the back wall. Damien ran to one of the towers and climbed to the top, pulling something out of his pack; it was the Moblin bow he had killed an elemental with during his first adventure. He had kept it as a souvenir, and packed it when he left the ranch, figuring he would need it. He was right, apparently.

Krix, meanwhile, had attacked the spider head-on, slashing at its eyes with lightning-fast moves. Green blood flew in the air as the eyeballs were torn apart, and an unholy scream filled the air. A huge, hairy leg swung itself around, knocking Krix against the wall, where he sat stunned. The beast reared back to strike, when an arrow came whistling towards it, plunging itself into the side of its head. Damien saw it recoil, and quickly nocked another arrow to his string as it turned and charged blindly towards him.

He felt the wooden tower shake as he fired the arrow into its head; the beast crashed into it, smashing it into sticks, and he was launched into the air. Landing on the spider's back, he grabbed desperately for a handhold, and clung to its skull-shaped shell as it bucked and squirmed, trying to shake him off. His grip slipped, and he was tossed bodily into the air, landing on top of the outer wall.

As he lay there trying to get his breath back, a showering of Deku Nuts rattled against the skulltula's armor. "Fire at will!" cried a Deku guard stationed on the wall nearest the palace, and the newly arrived ranks of Dekus on the wall fired a barrage at the monster. "Save the Princess!" The skulltula turned at the sound of their voices, the nuts bouncing harmlessly off its thick hide, but before it could attack, Krix was back on his feet. He leapt at its legs, slicing one cleanly off, than another. It howled in rage, shuffling its feet wildly, trying to stomp its foe flat.

Krix couldn't move quick enough to dodge all of the tree-sized limbs, and he got pinned under one. It struck at the Dekus with another leg, and they were scattered like mere twigs. The boy cried out in pain as the weight of the beast crushed down on him, attempting in vain to reach his swords.

The sound awoke a deep, seething anger inside Damien. He got up quickly, crouching on the wall, eyes suddenly a vibrant scarlet as he caught sight of his foe. Dropping his bow and drawing his sword, he leapt with inhuman strength, jumping clear to the opposite side of the garden and landing on the spider, plunging the sword deep into its head. The spider sprang backwards in pain, taking its foot off of Krix and letting go of the Princess, who flew through the air and landed in the arms of one of the Deku guards.

Krix coughed violently as his lungs fought for air. Sitting up, he grabbed at his swords, then watched in fascination as Damien stabbed repeatedly at the monster's body, ear-splitting shrieks emitting from it. Finally, Damien's sword glowed with an unholy power, and he swung it with all his might, splitting the spider in half, end to end. The halves fell heavily to the ground and disappeared in a blast of black smoke, leaving Damien lying on the ground.

Krix hurried forward to see if he was all right, and stepped back in alarm to see that Damien's eyes were bright red, staring up into the sky as he grinned ferally, laughing softly to himself. Suddenly he groaned and shook his head, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, they were back to their normal dark brown. "Ow… what happened?"

To Be Continued

**A/N**: Wow, looong chapter. Hate to cut it off so short, but it felt like a good place to finish. Alrighty, please comment! I would love to hear your opinions.


	6. A Familiar Horror

**Chapter 6: A Familiar Horror**

Krix stared at Damien in awe and fear. Even with his experience in the dark and supernatural (he lived in Ikana, after all), the look on Damien's face had disturbed him. It was somehow demonic, sinister, delighted in death and murder. Not at all like the awkward but benevolent swordsman he knew. Sitting up, Damien rubbed his throbbing head, and then saw the look of shock on Krix's face. "What?" Krix made a funny noise, like he wanted to say something but couldn't, and recoiled a step. Damien became concerned. "Krix, what is it?"

"GUARDS!" The bellow of the Deku King beat the air around them. They glanced over in time to see him waddling through the entrance to the gardens, waving his scepter violently. "SEIZE THEM!" the King bellowed again, nearly exploding with anger. The guards who had not been hurt in the battle scuttled over and surrounded the two warriors, but didn't dare get close; the sight of the two with spider gore all over their weapons and clothing was intimidating enough, but they had seen them dismember the Skulltula themselves, and didn't want to be next.

Damien got to his feet, legs shaky with fatigue, and glared levelly at the king. "What are you doing?" he asked, annoyed. "We just killed the giant spider that was after the princess! Why are you treating us like enemies?!"

"You can't fool me!" the King spat. "You set that spider on her yourself, then killed it to look like heroes and make me give up my mirror! Do not insult my intelligence by forging such obvious lies!"

"What intelligence?" muttered Krix, but nobody heard him.

"We aren't lying!" insisted Damien. "Why would we go through all the trouble of killing it if we were just trying to get the mirror? We could've just stolen it."

"More lies," the King said darkly. " Why do you even bother? A silly show like that isn't enough to hide the facts; both of you are deceitful thieves who put my daughter's life in danger, and I won't allow you to live and plague another being with your foul trickery!" He raised his staff in the air, and the princess stirred in the arms of the Deku who had caught her and stared groggily about. "Guards, fire on my command! One… two…"

"WAIT!" Everyone froze in surprise as the princess leapt onto the ground and ran in front of her father, addressing him sternly. "Daddy! What is going on?!"

"Sweetie!" Her father seemed both happy and surprised at once. "You're ok! Thank heavens! Stand back, dear. I'm about to give these crooks the painful death they deserve!"

"No!! You're not listening!! They were just trying to help, but all you care about is that stupid mirror! You don't even care about me!" The Deku King was about to make some pathetic denial, but she stole his scepter instead and turned to the guards. "Get away from them, and get back inside!" she ordered. Her father grew red behind her.

"Daughter! I know what I'm doing, and it's not what you…"

"NOT ANOTHER WORD!" The last of his courage melted like wax. He cowered sulkily as she turned her glare down the guards, and they shuffled off out of the gardens and into the palace without protest. The King followed them as she gave him a firm wave of the staff, leaving her alone with Damien and Krix. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "He can be so unreasonable sometimes." They nodded slowly; Damien sighed, realizing that their whole quest will probably be full of these complications. "Anyway, thank you for saving me. Here's the mirror I promised you." She produced it from her sleeve, having somehow miraculously held onto it, and placed it in Damien's hand. Then she looked at Krix and seemed to blush slightly.

"Don't wait too long to visit again," she said with a Deku's version of a smile; then she hurried off towards the palace, covering her face with her sleeves and giggling in an odd sort of way. Krix looked after her in bewilderment, but Damien smiled, a knowing look on his face.

"Well well. You're quite the charmer, Krix," he said, tucking the shard into his pack. "Looks like she's got a crush on you."

"Huh?" Krix looked up at him blankly. "What do you mean? What's a… 'crush'?"

Damien laughed to himself. "I'll tell you when you're older." He ruffled the boy's hair, and Krix swatted his hand away impatiently, watching him walk back to the boat. He chased after him, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"No, really! What is it?" Damien just shook his head, making Krix annoyed that he would keep such a valuable secret to himself. "Fine, I can wait. You _will_ tell me though, soon enough." He pulled his hood up over his head and hopped into the boat with Damien, and they made their way into the dark, surrounded by the eerie shapes and sounds of the swamp at night.

They were silent as Damien rowed them back towards the Tourist Center, until Krix finally had to face him and ask. "Hey, um… what happened back there? With you going all creepy and stuff?"

Damien gave him a funny look. " 'Creepy'?"

"Yeah, when you killed the spider. Your eyes got all red, and…" He hesitated.

Damien had stopped rowing. Something was bothering him. "I thought you killed that spider. I blacked out when it tossed me, then you…" he tried to put it together in his head. "But… I had this weird dream. It was like a nightmare. I was… I had this terrible urge to kill. The sight of blood on my hands…" he shivered, feeling sick to his stomach. He'd only ever felt that way once before, but the royal tomb in Hyrule felt very far away now.

Krix looked worried. "Maybe you lost your head. Warriors have been known to fly into rages if they don't have much discipline."

"But I've fought monsters before."

"Not here," Krix said with a serious expression. "Not in Termina. This place is different from the land you come from, remember? It is a land ruled by darkness, and it affects everyone who lives here. You have changed since you came here."

A lump formed in Damien's throat as he realized the truth in Krix's words. Something had been hanging over him ever since he left Hyrule, like a black shroud, always haunting him. This world' lifeblood was darkness; he felt it everywhere. In Hyrule, the land's true nature wasn't one of evil. The evil there came from an outside source that lingered from ancient curses no one knew the cures to. But here, evil was in every living thing. "Kain spoke of changes," he muttered to himself. "The witches spoke of hidden power. More riddles." He started rowing again, glancing about, as though expecting the plants to be leaning in, listening. "Do you really think it's because I'm not from here?" he asked Krix.

"Maybe." The boy shrugged. "Nobody has ever come here from Hyrule before. Except…" He furrowed his brow in concentration. "There was this one boy. Everyone was talking about him. And a mask… and the moon."

"Link." Krix glanced up, and saw that Damien had his eyes fixed on the water. "I never thought I'd say it, but I wish he was here right now. He would know what's going on." His strokes grew stronger, steadier, as his motivation renewed itself. "I have to bring him back if we want to figure this out."

Krix nodded. "Right." He sat back and looked up at the lightening sky. "We should hurry and make camp soon. The sun will be up in just a few hours." Dark grimaced; now that the action was over, he suddenly realized how tired he was. "Well, you are the one at fault," Krix said, seeing his eyelids drooping. "It you had listened to me in the first place, we could have gotten the shard quickly, instead of playing diplomat and wasting time." Damien only shook his head and rowed on, too tired to say anything in reply.

Finally, they pulled up to the Tourist Center, and the boy hopped out of the boat and tied it up to the dock. Damien stumbled out and stretched, hearing his joints pop, his whole body feeling as heavy as lead. Leaving the boat safely behind, they turned their backs to the swamp and headed back towards the field, wary of the looming, shadowy trees that lined the path, waving gently in a breeze that neither of them could feel.

They stopped on the edge of the Southern Road, just outside the boundary of the swamp. Damien offered to take the first watch, and sat against a wide tree, watching the foliage swaying around them. Krix sat on the other side and fell asleep; his quiet, even breathing soon drifted on the air to Damien's ears. The Hylian fought to keep his tired eyes open as he stared up at the stars, bracing himself for a long, cold watch. He decided to find something to do that would keep him awake, and remembered the mirror shard in his pack; he pulled it out and looked at it, and saw his reflection staring blankly back. He tilted it to the side, and the light of the moon flashed over its surface, suddenly blindingly bright.

He blinked rapidly as his eyes stung, stunned tears blurring his vision as the light faded. When he could see clearly again, he found himself in a plain white room, realizing that he had been here before. He had met the goddess Farore in this room. But it was different then how he remembered it; instead of brilliant, warming light coming from everywhere at once, the room was dim and cold, the pure stone walls worn and pitted, as though rotten with age. No beautiful goddess stood before him in this room. He felt an overwhelming sadness at what the place had become, though he still wasn't entirely sure of its meaning.

"Not very pretty, is it?" Damien's heart leapt into his throat as a soft, low voice addressed him. Turning quickly, he saw a dark figure standing in the far corner, where the shadow was deepest. They had on a cloak with the hood drawn up, so Damien couldn't see most of their face, but two red eyes gazed out at him, glowing like live coals.

"Who are you?" Damien asked, wondering why he felt so daunted by this figure's presence. "What have you done to this place?"

"I have done nothing," the figure said simply. "This place is reacting to the evil inside _you_, and it has nothing to do with me. Well, mostly. As for my name…" The figure shook its head, and he could see a grin stretching wide beneath the eyes. "You already know it. You just don't know I'm the one who belongs to it. No, not Kain, if that's what you're thinking. Close though." The Hylian let his hand drop to his side, but his sword was gone. Glacia, oddly enough, was still there, strapped to his back. "You do not need to fight me," the figure continued. "With just a word, you can order me out, and I will leave. But I warn you; of you get rid of me, you'll never finish your quest. It was intended especially for you, but it will only succeed if you take me along. I can lend you my power, just like I did today. Yes, that was me. Sure, there are a few minor unpleasant surprises, but it will be worth it in the end, when your world is safe again, and you are in the arms of your beautiful wife."

Damien reached for Glacia's hilt in fury. "You stay away from Malon! I'll kill you if you touch her!" Anger surged through him, and Glacia's hilt hummed in response, as though eagerly awaiting its use. The figure laughed, a hollow sound.

"I want nothing to do with her. I was just reminding you of why you should get home as quickly as you can. She must miss you terribly, spending those lonely days by the window, waiting to see you ride up with head held high, returning victorious from a long adventure. And the only way to do that is to let me help you. Understand?" Damien scowled, but let his hand drop back to his side. "That's the way. Whatever happens, don't worry. I won't let you fail."

"Wait. You still haven't told me who…" The room began to spin around Damien, and the figure went out of focus. "Wait!"

"HEY!" Damien started awake, eyes opening to the sight of Krix's annoyed face only inches from his. "You fell asleep!" the boy said angrily. "And you didn't even wake me up for my turn at the watch! We could have been ambushed last night, and it would have been all your fault!" The boy stood back, his scolding done, and rubbed his eyes. "Well, we should get going. The sooner we can get all the shards, the better." Damien groaned and arose, his mind still occupied with his dream. Had it been real? Or was just his imagination after all? He realized his hand was throbbing painfully, and glanced down to see that he still held the mirror shard in his hand. He had gripped it so hard it had cut into his fingers, and he shook them with a curse, replacing the shard in his pack with his good hand. He was surprised at how alert he was; he couldn't have slept more than two hours, but he felt completely rested, as though he'd had a full night's rest.

Krix, on the other hand, was obviously exhausted, even after a quick, cold breakfast. His best efforts to look alert were foiled by his drooping eyelids, and the way he shuffled his feet as they started walking down the road. He stifled a yawn as he marched doggedly ahead of Damien. "Let me see, where to next?" he muttered to himself. "Great Bay, maybe… or…" His head nodded forward. "Or…"

Damien pitied him, despite himself. "Maybe I should carry you?" he suggested, knowing they wouldn't get anywhere at this pace. Krix gave him a dirty look. "You know, for my training?" Damien added, not wanting to hurt his pride. "To make me stronger?"

Krix seemed to think about this for a minute, and then relented. "Ok. But only because the one of the ancient Garo training methods has the student wear weights, until he can run in them faster than he could before. This usually takes months, but…" he yawned.

"Ok, I get it." Damien shifted his gear to his front, then knelt in front of him, and Krix climbed onto his back. Damien picked him up, and was caught off-guard by how small and light he was. Seeing him fight, he had grown used to thinking of Krix not as a kid, but as a seasoned warrior. It was a strange reminder of just how young he really was. "Alright, let's go." He began to walk on, feeling awkward and slightly embarrassed at his sudden kindness towards his little companion, but Krix didn't say anything, so neither did he.

When they finally reached the field, the sun had risen high into the sky, and Damien guessed that it was about four hours until noon. He squinted west, barely making out a building against the glare. "Hey Krix, what's over there in the Canyon?"

He felt Krix shift in his grasp. "Oh, nothing special. We don't need to go there."

"What do you mean? There might be a shard there."

"No, there isn't." Damien glanced back at him, but couldn't see his face. "Trust me. We don't need to go there." Something in his voice suggested resistance, but Damien didn't press the matter.

"Ok, we'll try somewhere else." He moved on across the field, headed for the mountain in the distance. "Get some sleep, ok? I'll wake you if we run into trouble."

"Fine, but I really don't need…" Krix yawned again, and rested his head on his arm. Soon, he was snoring lightly, leaving Damien to struggle on with nobody to talk to. Or so he thought.

"Heh, he looks so harmless when he's sleeping." The voice from Damien's dream spoke suddenly, surprising him. He looked around, but couldn't see who it was.

"Where are you?" Damien demanded, addressing the empty air around him.

"In your mind," the voice said again. "Don't worry about it, though. I can't do anything that you won't allow me to do."

_I think I should worry, _Damien thought back. _You just somehow got into my brain, and you haven't even told me who you are. Why should I trust you?_

"I want you to figure out who I am yourself. Besides, I helped you beat that spider, didn't I? I'm only here to assist you. I'll even tell you where the next shard is."

_Where is it?_

"Such poor manners! You should be more polite when asking for valuable information. But I'll tell you anyway, or rather, show you. Take that mirror shard out again." Damien shifted Krix's weight onto one arm, and then used his free hand to pull the shard out of his pack. "Look into it, and I'll take you there."

_Take me where?_ Damien gazed into the shard, and felt suddenly dizzy as the world spun around him once more. The grass and sky blurred and blended together, and he clenched his eyes shut to keep from getting sick. When the sensation faded away, he cracked his eyes open, then stared with open eyes at the scene around him. Krix stirred on his back, lifting his head to look around in confusion. Before he could ask, Damien answered his question in an amazed whisper. "It's… it's Hyrule."

To Be Continued…

**A/N**: Good lord, this took long to update. I am so, so sorry to all the people who gave up checking for updates. It takes a lot to find motivation to write this, especially since I bored with it a while back. I tweaked the story line a little from my original intent, and it will be much better than what I had planned before. I haven't been writing very well in this story, not like DLL, and I'm not sure why. But I'm going to finish it anyhow, instead of leaving you all hanging and wondering what the heck happened.

To all who reviewed, thank you very much. I heard somewhere that we writer's aren't allowed to respond to reviews…? So I'm staying on the safe side until I can find out for sure. Critiques and compliments are both greatly appreciated, because I know there is much room for improvement here. Thanks again!


	7. A Link to the Past

Chapter 7: A Link to the Past 

They stared together over the dark landscape that stretched before them in all directions, the trampled, scorched grass, the blazing sky. Black clouds of smoke billowed up from the horizon, and the smell of flames and burning wood drifted to them on a warm breeze. Damien almost dropped Krix in shock as he gazed about at his homeland, seeing a place that was once covered in emerald grass now blackened and torn.

"This is Hyrule? This… isn't how I imagined it." Krix squinted as a gust of wind blew ashes into his face. "Is Hyrule a land of war?"

"No. Our Princess hates war." Damien glanced down at the mirror shard in his hand, and saw flames reflected in its surface. "I don't understand. Everything was fine when I left."

"_This isn't quite the Hyrule you left."_ The voice spoke once again suddenly. _"This is a little farther back. You have heard of the Great War, haven't you?"_

Damien was learning to get used to the voice suddenly talking to him. _You mean the war that was started because of the two dark gods, right?_

"_You could say that. This is Hyrule during that time, nearing the peak of the war. I have brought you back years into the past."_ Krix looked at Damien, wondering why he was so quiet, but Damien seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. _"I have brought you to this time for a reason,"_ the voice continued. _"You cannot defeat your enemy without first knowing yourself. Haven't you always wondered how you ended up in that cursed temple, and if you existed before?"_

Damien's heart pounded with excitement. _Of course I have. Was I really alive during this time?_

"Once again, you must discover that for yourself. I'll give you a hint, though: The answer lies in shadow, but shadow is not the answer."

That…that makes no sense. Why are you speaking in riddles? No answer. Hello? I know you can hear me! Hey! He growled in frustration, and then suddenly remembered Krix. He looked up to see that the boy was studying him with genuine concern.

"Sorry, I was…thinking," he said. "It's just…very strange, to come back and see everything… different. We've somehow gone into the past, to a war."

"Oh." The boy rested his head against his arm again. "I guess Hyrule isn't as great as I thought." Damien could detect a note of disappointment in his voice, but could find no words to encourage him.

"Come on, let's start looking." Damien shrugged Krix into a more secure position and headed off over the field, walking steadily without any particular destination in mind.

Damien found it strange how he didn't seem to grow tired, even after carrying Krix around. This was good, as it allowed him room to sort out his current puzzle. _The answer lies in shadow, but shadow is not the answer…_Why couldn't he just get a straight answer? Everything was riddles and guesswork. Damien had never been a big fan of riddles. _The answer lies in shadow…_He sighed as he reached the top of a hill, looked up, and stopped short, stunned, at the sight that greeted him. Clenching his eyes shut, he turned away in horror. So, this was the true face of war.

Bodies lay strewn about on the ground below, dead eyes glazed over and staring unseeing into the night sky above. There were Zoras, Gerudos, Hylians; even a few Gorons had fallen here, their massive forms still amid the silent carnage. The stench of spilt blood and rotten flesh filled the air, turning Damien's stomach. He took a few shallow breaths, then turned back to look beyond the battlefield. Hyrule Castle loomed darkly in the distance, framed by smoke and drenched in red light. Next to it, fires had leapt up in Kakariko Village. It brought heartbroken tears to Damien's eyes. He heard a whimper behind him, and Krix buried his face in Damien's cloak, holding tight to the older warrior for security.

"I'm sorry," Damien said softly. It hurt to see Krix so afraid. "I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish you could see Hyrule twenty years from now, in my time. It's lush and green, just how it's supposed to be. I'll show you when this is all over, I promise." He wiped his eyes quickly as his sleeve, then headed down the side of the hill to skirt the battlefield. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he moved quickly so they leave that forsaken place as soon as they could.

The closest place was Kakariko, but he was reluctant to search there. Surely, he would only find more destruction among the burnt-down houses. However, if he tried to search anywhere else, the hostile races would mistake him for an enemy and attack. Discouraged and at a loss, he trudged dejectedly towards the stairs to the village, hoping that at least he might be of some help.

The sound of pounding hooves on stone echoed down the stairs as he neared them, and he had to jump aside to avoid being trampled by a brown horse. Startled, he stared after it as it thundered over a bridge to the field, ridden by a young Hylian woman with long blonde hair thrown back from her face by the wind. She was carrying a small bundle, and Damien glimpsed the face of a crying baby before she turned and slowly disappeared into the dark. There was a wild cry, and Damien looked around just in time to see another horse in hot pursuit, its rider a scruffy male with a dark countenance. There was war paint smeared over his cheeks, and he looked down with a smirk at Damien with golden eyes that glinted with a love of war.

Anger flared inside of the Hylian. He knew those eyes, those damned, wicked eyes. The Gerudo laughed as he rode off, spurring his horse onward, and the sound of his voice sent ripples of fury surging through Damien's veins, so that he was nearly mad with it. Krix looked up to see what was going on, and sudden felt the hard ground beneath him as Damien set him down; yet another horse and rider was going by, one of the Gerudo's minions, and Damien drew his sword, cutting the man down out of the saddle. Seizing the reins of the horse, he swung himself up. "Krix, let's go!" he ordered in an urgent tone; the boy looked up at him in a dazed and confused way, and Damien impatiently hoisted him up behind him with inhuman strength. With a "Yah!" and a kick to the sides of the horse, they were off, charging in pursuit of the one man Damien hated most, only twenty years younger.

Damien had no idea how he had managed to run into Ganondorf so soon after re-entering Hyrule, but the only thought on his mind was taking him down. Krix, who was seated behind him, had only been on a horse once previously, and had not relished the experience; he held on for dear life as the frantic beast slowly closed the ground between them and their quarry, trying not to think about the ground that passed in a blur below them.

Far ahead, the woman on the horse was slowing down. The beast had been wounded badly, and blood dripped down its flank as its breathing grew labored. The young Ganondorf slowed with them, grinning devilishly as he closed in on his prey. He reached out a hand to grab her, and she screamed, clinging to the horse's mane with her one free hand. He almost had her when Damien came swiftly up behind him on his other side, riding alongside him and slashing at his shoulder. The sword smashed through the armor, drawing blood, and Ganondorf yelled in pain and fury, nearly falling out of his saddle from the force of the blow. His horse slowed to a stop, but the woman rode on, quickly fleeing out of his reach.

Damien turned the horse, slowing it to a trot as he came between the woman and Ganondorf. He fixed his enemy with a deadly gaze as the Gerudo recovered slowly, sitting up to return Damien's seething glare. Placing a hand to his wound, he drew it away and saw his fingers covered in blood. With a snarl, he looked back at Damien and drew his sword from the sheath on his saddle. "You… bastard!" he spat, spurring his horse into a charge. Damien urged his own steed forward, and the two met in the middle, sparks flying as the swords clashed together. Both horses reared up, kicking their front legs with frenzied whinnies; Krix lost his grip and tumbled off onto the ground, where he had to move quickly to avoid being trampled by the panicked beasts.

The horses stamped and bucked as their riders attacked each other fiercely, their weapons spinning and singing as they met again and again, leaving glowing red ribbons in the air as the fire's light hit them. Both warriors yelled their war cries, each attacking without hesitation or mercy. They seemed equally matched until Damien pulled a swift attack, slamming the pommel of his sword into the side of his enemy's head. The Gerudo went down completely this time, but grabbed Damien on the way, dragging him to the ground with him. They both landed hard on the packed earth, recovering just in time to grab each other's wrists in a deadlock, both struggling to overcome the other in a battle of strength. Their swords were forgotten as they fought hand-to-hand, throwing punches and dirt clods as they went at each other's throats, clawing and kicking like ferocious dogs. Krix only sat and watched in morbid fascination, knowing that if he tried to help, he might end up hurting Damien.

The Gerudo finally threw Damien off, grabbing his sword and stabbing down at his foe. Damien rolled out of reach and seized his own sword, lunging only to be blocked by his foe's scimitar. They resumed their deadly dance, stabbing and circling as they tried to pick apart their opponent's defenses and still keep up their own. Each got a few small cuts in here and there, but nothing to crow about; Ganondorf felt fatigue burning in his limbs, and wondered how his foe, a mere Hylian, could possibly keep up such a pace. The truth was, Damien didn't feel very tired at all; it was as though something lent him energy, so he was faster, stronger. Finally, the Gerudo's guard dropped, and an unexpected roundhouse kick sent him spinning to the dirt.

Damien knelt on his chest to pin him, grinning a gloating smile, seeing the rage in his foe's eyes replaced with fear. He placed the tip of his sword against Ganondorf's throat, drawing a shallow line and watching the red blood drip down his neck. He raised the blade, preparing for a final strike, but the voice spoke loudly inside his mind. _"Wait! Think about what you're doing."_ Damien hesitated, the tip of his sword stained red as it hovered before his eyes. _"If you kill Ganondorf now, he won't exist in the future, which means you won't be who you are now. There's no telling where you'll be if you kill him; you might cease to exist entirely."_ Damien cursed mentally, bloodlust pounding in his head.

_But I want to kill him. I want him to pay._

"Just think for a second."

So Damien thought. If he killed him, there was a good chance that he would never meet Krix in his past. There was a very good chance he would never meet Malon, either. Or any of the other people he'd gotten to know since his escape from the Water Temple. Reality itself would change entirely. He couldn't let the balance be altered like that. With a growl of frustration, he got up and swiped his blade on Ganondorf's clothes, before sheathing it and kicking him in the side. "You're beaten," he spat. "Get the hell outta here before I change my mind."

But Ganondorf wasn't about to except defeat. He leap up, scimitar sweeping up with him in an arc. Damien felt something hit him in the chest; but it was not a blade. He flew back, landing hard on his backside, and saw to his astonishment that someone stood in front of Ganondorf, one hand blocking the blade, the other thrust palm-outward towards Damien, having knocked him back apparently. "I apologize for the interruption," the figure said to Damien, their voice muffled by the cloth mask worn over their mouth, "but I must bring him back alive. He must be tried for war crimes."

Ganondorf fell to the ground, and Damien noticed for the first time the capsule in which the blade had been lodged, which leaked pungent fumes. The Hylian quickly covered his nose as the figure picked up Ganondorf, and saw the emblem of a great eye on the back of his armor. "Wait!" he said, and the masked one turned towards him. "Are you… one of the Sheikah?"

"I am." The figure bowed formally, raising a hand with two pointing fingers to the level of its eyes. "May the goddesses bless you," it said in parting, and disappeared in a flash of blinding light. When Damien's eyes recovered, it was gone. Krix, who had been watching the whole time, hurried to Damien's side as the Hylian picked himself up off the ground. "You ok?" Damien asked; Krix nodded, and looked back to where the Sheikah had stood just seconds before.

"Damien, that person! He was quick, like one of my people. He moves in the shadows like a Garo." The boy's eyes were very wide, full of awe and wonder. The older warrior looked down at him in confusion, wondering why he was so excited all of a sudden, when the meaning of Krix's words dawned on him. The Sheikah, people of the shadow…

"That's it!" he said suddenly, making Krix jump in surprise. "The answer lies in shadow!" He recovered his bag from the ground where he'd dropped it and slipped it over his shoulder once more, walking over to get his horse. "Come on, we've got to get to Kakariko, quickly."

"I'm not getting back on that ugly beast!" Krix said, crossing his arms in resistance. "I don't even know what you're talking about. You're babbling like a crazy person."

"We'll run then. Don't worry, I'll explain everything later." He took off over the grass, and Krix ran after him, cursing mildly under his breath.

Kakariko Village was a wreck. Most of the buildings had caught fire, and many had burnt down completely, leaving only charred black skeletons where the frames still stood. The townsfolk huddled in small, miserable groups, weeping bitterly over the lost of family members and all that they had owned. Wounded soldiers rested among them, following the two warriors with weary eyes as they walked among the rubble; victims lay where they had fallen, lifeless bodies long cooled by the chill of the early evening. Krix had his hood up, keeping his gaze on the ground as he passed and not looking anyone in the eye. Damien's heart was wrenched at the sight of such a familiar place, now so mangled that it looked like the jaws of Hell itself.

"Hey, you!" Dark looked around as someone called out to him. A young woman with tattoos below her eyes and long braided hair was addressing him, trying to lift a heavy beam with muscular but slender arms. "You're not injured. Come over here and give me a hand!" He hurried over the rubble to her side, and got a hold of the beam. A lady and child were trapped under the debris, fearful eyes gazing up at them. "Alright, on three. One, two, three!" They lifted it with all of their might, ignoring the snapping and creaking of the wood, and tossed it clear of the wreckage of the house. They pulled up a few more panels before there was run enough for the captives to escape, then they helped them out, checking them for injuries and finding them a blanket and a spot to rest. "Over here, there's another one." The woman led Dark to another pile, and they started to dig once more. "By the by," she said, grunting as she tossed a heavy chunk of rubble aside, "You don't look familiar. What's your name?"

"Damien." The Hylian wiped the sweat off of his forehead, leaving a black streak of soot. "What's yours?"

She grinned at him. "I'm Impa, war maiden of the Sheikah and captain of the Royal Guard. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

To Be Continued…

**A/N**: A few of you might have seen that coming. Sorry for being so predictable. : P But hey, at least I actually like writing this story again. Reviews are encourage, both praise and constructive criticism equally. For my longtime readers, yes! I'm actually posting two chapters within one month of each other! Amazing, no? Anyway, thanks for reading!


	8. Village of Shadow

**Chapter 8: Village of Shadow**

Damien spent a long afternoon in Kakariko that day, digging through rubble and helping Impa tend to the now injured, homeless citizens of the town. Krix seemed to have disappeared somewhere, and even though he kept an eye out for him, Damien didn't see him for a long time. He wasn't completely worried; Krix could take care of himself. But the scene had disturbed the young Garo, and Damien felt sorry for him. It made him realize that he knew nothing about the boy, aside from the fact that he was alone, and the last of his kind. Once he got a chance, he decided that he would talk to him and learn more about him. He was ashamed that he hadn't thought of it until then.

Impa allowed him a break as the sun was getting low in the sky. The fury-driven burst of energy he'd had that afternoon was gone, and his whole body felt heavy and achy as he shuffled towards Impa's house, the one house that remained wholly unburnt in the whole village. Impa said that she would be setting up a town meeting there, and wanted him to come. _Probably wants me to explain myself,_ he thought glumly, getting that doomed feeling that he got when he knew he was in trouble. _What am I going to tell them? I can't just say, "I come from the future to learn about my past, because the voice in my mind told me to." They'd think I was nuts._ He gathered himself together as he climbed the steps to her door, trying to look like he knew what he was doing. _Oh well. I'll think of something._

He opened the door and stepped into a house that was one large room, with everything on the first floor except the bedroom, which was simply a loft on the second level, accessed by a wooden staircase. A large wooden table dominated the bottom floor, and Damien was relieved to see Krix seated there, staring into the wood grain with his arms resting on the table, hood up, the very picture of dejection. "Good, you're here," said Impa, clearing a plate from the table. "Have some food. There isn't a lot, but there's enough." Dark sat beside Krix and took a small portion of the bread and cheese offered there, knowing that he had food in his pack, but not wanting to refuse Impa's hospitality. He'd eat more later. He turned towards his companion, but the boy made no move to show that he acknowledged his friend's presence.

"Hey, you alright?" Damien asked gently. There was no reply. Damien felt Impa's gaze and glanced up at her, seeing the sympathetic look on her face. She rested a reassuring hand on Krix's shoulder.

"Why don't you head upstairs? You should get some sleep," she suggested softly. The boy slid off his seat and walked silently up the stairs, soon disappearing from sight as he lay down to sleep on the floor of the loft, where he was most comfortable. "Poor thing," Impa said sadly, almost to herself. "This isn't the first time he's seen war." Damien looked at her in surprise, and she returned the look. "What, didn't you know? You _are_ his companion."

"He never told me about his past."

"Did you ever ask?" She judged from his guilty silence that he had not. She sighed, and sat opposite him, much in the same manner Krix had been seated, as if a great weight lay on her shoulders. "I could tell by the look in his eyes. It was the same as the villagers; fear, fear for the future, from not knowing what would happen. War is a black thing, that leaves a mark on all who witness it." She shivered slightly. "He told me a bit about his past. It was a brave thing for him to do, but he wanted to talk about it.

"Apparently, his country was torn apart by civil war, like the one that's plaguing Hyrule now. The king who ruled over his land was wicked and cruel, and the people organized to overthrow him and put their own king on the throne. They got together all of the able-bodied men and boys of the village, and created a secret organization of rebellion, who were trained to fight by one of the elders of the village. But when they day came that they were able to confront the king and fight back, they had to face experienced soldiers with better equipment, and were barely able to hold their ground. Each side fought ruthlessly, down to the last man, and the village and the castle were both consumed in the turmoil of the battles. When the leader of the rebellion finally killed the King, he was fatally wounded, and everyone else in the kingdom was dead." Impa shook her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. "It's hard to believe that some people can be so evil that they would throw countless lives away, just for power."

Damien remembered the psychotic glint in Ganondorf's eyes, and scowled at the tabletop, fury burning inside him. "Not to me," he muttered quietly, his hand dropping unconciously to the hilt of his sword.

The door to the house opened, and three soot-smeared men entered, closing the door quickly behind them. One was a stout man, reminding Damien of the many carpenters that had populated Kakariko during the early years of his time; the other two were lean, one tall, the other short and dressed in expensive clothes that had been destroyed by dirt and hard times. "Lady Impa," said this last man, stepping forward. "You called for us?"

"Yes. Mayor, Orin, Kelsett, please have a seat." The three men moved forward, and Damien made room for them, avoiding their curious gazes. The feeling of being in trouble deepened in his gut, but he hid it from the others. He didn't want to look guilty when he hadn't even done anything.

The tall one, Kelsett, sat opposite Damien, nodding curtly in his direction. "Who's this?" he asked, and Damien suddenly felt that he didn't much like the man's tone.

"That's why he's here," explained Impa. "I don't know. But we'll soon find out." The Mayor made an affirming grunt, sitting himself beside Kelsett with a flourish of his ruined robes. Orin, the stout one, sat next to Damien, seeming to have a profound interest in him; he kept examining his face, as though it reminded him of something. Impa sat at the head of the table, examining each of the gentlemen in turn. "Well, let's start with introductions, shall we?" she said, aiming this comment mainly at Damien. He didn't quite get the hint at first, but their impatient stares soon alerted him that he should go first.

"Oh, right. Um, my name is Damien, of…" he jabbed a finger towards the door, towards where Lon Lon Ranch should be, before realizing that this would only confuse them. "Er, of Termina, Woodfall to be exact," he recovered quickly, thinking up a quick white lie. "I've come to this country in search of a rare artifact, one that would fetch a nice price back home. I had heard that this country was at war, but I had idea how severe…" He trailed off uncomfortably, wilting under the stares of the others, and shrugged noncommittally. "I'm just a traveler, and I saw the damage and wanted to help," he ended lamely. Impa raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

"I've never heard of Termina," the Mayor said, with a slight puff of his chest and a suspicious squint. "It must be a long ways away."

"It is," interrupted Impa, giving him a hard look. "If you please, we ought to get on with the meeting." She went around the table, introducing the men in turn to Damien. Kelsett seemed to lose interest, but Orin still glanced over now and again, the same puzzled expression on his face. There was a stirring up in the loft, and Damien guessed that Krix must have been listening in, curious despite himself.

The Mayor cleared his throat, addressing all parties present with a stern tone. "I would first like to say that I have been giving the matter some thought," he began, looking down his nose at them, "and I have decided that Kakariko should be evacuated, immediately, and its citizens led into the protection of the castle, as those living in the castle town have done. We have prevented the Gorons from returning to their mountain through here by digging the moat in the field, thereby blocking the way with water, but this morning's raid has shown me that not even a river will stop the horsemen of the Gerudo, and those bandits that the King has working for him. We are vulnerable here, with no wall to protect us and most of our defenses gone. We must leave now, or risk another massacre like this morning."

"But that would leave the Sheikah without protection!" Orin insisted, suddenly urgently alert. "I do not mean to speak for Miss Impa, but I do not think the noble race of Hyrule's protectors would be eager to leave their only home in such a hurry."

Impa nodded sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid not. This place is sacred to us; our families were born and raised here, our dead are buried here. We could not abandon it to the marauders of those races who would come and make this their stronghold in our absence."

"Not only that," interjected Kelsett, "but as you have already pointed out, dear Mayor, this town has become a barrier between the Gorons and their route to the mountains, where they might replenish their forces and their weapons. If we leave this place unmanned, we cannot hope to weaken the rock-eaters enough to crush them."

"I will not allow my people to be slaughtered for the sake of one town!" the mayor practically yelled. "I'm sorry miss, but we can't stay here and be killed. If that Gerudo demon comes back, there will be none of us left."

"Wait…" Everyone turned as Damien spoke up. "I thought that the Sheikah took care of Ganondorf? I saw a someone bearing the emblem of a crying eye carry him off, to be tried for war crimes."

"When did you see this?" Impa's eyes flashed with urgency, and Damien mentally kicked himself for not telling Impa earlier. It now seemed painfully clear that she had no warning of this.

"I followed him, when he ran out of town after the raid. He was chasing a woman with a baby, but I fought him, and she was able to get away. I took him down, but didn't kill him. Then someone dressed as a Sheikah drugged him and disappeared with him." A lump formed in his throat as everyone glared daggers at him from around the table. Impa sighed, exhaustedly rubbing her temples.

"This information would have been useful a while ago," she muttered angrily. "For example, _the_ _moment you entered the village_." Damien shrank down in his seat, feeling his face grow hot in embarrassment. She glared him down. "Anything else you'd like to tell us?" she growled. Damien shook his head. "Good. Then go stand outside. We have things to discuss that should not be heard by outsiders." Damien slid miserably from his seat, feeling the eyes of every council member on him as he retreated to the front door, slipping outside into the hot air of a summer night and closing it shut behind him. He cursed at himself as he sat down moodily on the hill leading up to her door, guilt rolling over him like a storm cloud. He hoped to the Goddesses that he hadn't just won the Great War for Ganondorf.

After a while, he was joined by Orin. Damien looked around as the front door of the house opened, allowing a small snatch of the sound of raised voices creep out before the large man closed it behind him. With a heavy sigh, Orin shuffled over and sat next to Damien, a comfortable distance away. "Thought I'd join you for a while," he said in his rough voice, sounding a bit resigned. "It's getting dangerous in there. I don't want to be around when they start throwing chairs at each other." Damien allowed himself a small grin at the joke; he needed a laugh. "I'm not much for talking anyway," Orin admitted, continuing, "I don't have the patience. I just like to get things done, not talk about it. I guess that's why I'm the Head Carpenter, and not the Mayor." He grinned at this, as though the thought of him as Mayor amused him.

Damien laughed half-heartedly, quietly, feeling very homesick all of a sudden. Everything seemed so much simpler when his problem was a monster, something tangible that he could stick a sword through and get rid of. Now that there was a lag in action, he felt very tired, and sick of running around with all the forces of darkness out to get him. He missed Malon; all he wanted was to see her smiling face again, and spend long, lazy hours with her watching the horses run around the corral at the ranch, warmed by the Hyrule sun on their backs.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he had almost forgotten about Orin; he glanced over as the man laughed, watching him with a twinkle in his eye. "I know that look," he said. "Now I know why you seem so familiar to me. You look just like a fella I know, goes by the name of Esper. He always had that look on his face, once the war started. Said he wished things would go back to how they used to be." Damien nodded. "Well, don't you worry. Whatever troubles you've got in life, remember that they won't last forever. One day, things will be good again."

Damien attempted a convinced smile, and failed. "Who's Esper?" he asked, out of curiosity.

Orin gazed out over the village. "He was a citizen of this village, not long ago. One of the Sheikah, too, and Impa's younger brother. He had a wife and three kids, all boys, all very young. The oldest was only three, that bein' little Conner, bless his heart, and the youngest was a newborn. They all fled the village a couple weeks ago, when the first attack came by the Zoras, as did a few of the other families. We haven't heard from them since, but we fear the worst." Orin shook his head. "This war may well be over nothing, you know. I'm practical man, and though I ain't suited much to thinking, I'm starting to believe that those rumors about the 'golden relic of the goddesses' are a lot of cow dung. I mean, what sort of bauble can grant a man anything his heart desires? It doesn't seem right. What would happen if the wrong sort of person gets his hands on that kind of power?"

"It's not pretty," Damien mumbled, almost to himself. He still had a few of Link's memories left in his mind, the particularly bad ones, and most of these showed a world controlled by a much older Ganondorf than the one he had met that day, where fear and the Evil King's minions had made slaves of all the people of Hyrule. "Do you have any idea where they went?" he asked clearly. "The family, I mean. Did they tell anyone where they were going?"

"Now that I think about it, Esper did say something about the forest," Orin recalled. "He said it was safe there, that the folks who live in the trees were a peaceful race. He though of taking refuge there. But he'd have to pass through the Field…" He shook his head again. "His chances weren't good from the start, not with all this fighting going on. I hope they're alright, for their sakes and Impa's."

They where suddenly aware of a presence behind them, and turned in unison to see Impa herself standing there, arms crossed, with a stern look on her face. "We've decided not to evacuate," she said. "We're going to fortify the village the best we can, and defend it. The King is counting on us to keep the Gorons from their home in the mountains, and we still have a few Sheikah left here. Damien, I would be very thankful if you could stay and help, but I won't hold it against you if you leave. This is not your fight."

_If you only knew,_ he thought to himself, getting to his feet. "I'll stay and help," he insisted. "This is more important right now than a treasure hunt." 

Impa smiled at this, looking very pleased. "Very well. Stick with Orin, since you two seem to be getting along. He'll tell you what to do." She walked back towards the house to finish formulating a plan with the others, and Orin got to his feet, turning to Damien with a wink.

"Hope you're set for a long visit, boy. We've got a lot of work to do."

To Be Continued…

**A/N**: Not sick of my little notes yet, are you? Heh. Well, Another chapter done. Sorry I couldn't finish it in time for Christmas. Funny thing, I'm playing Twilight Princess right now, and it sounds oddly familiar to my story. I swear, I had no previous knowledge of what the game was going to have in it, so any similarities between the two /cough/ shattered mirror /cough/ are completely coincidental. I actually got the mirror idea from the third Zelda game, or the one with the Darkworld and Agnim and stuff. (If I got any of that wrong, I apologize. I need to study my oldschool Zeldas more. --; ) Anywho, I was also thinking about editing this entire story once I complete the first version, because frankly, the beginning sucks. The last two (including this) chapters aren't that bad, but the rest ain't so hot. I could do much better. So if anyone has any suggestions, I'd be very happy to here them. Thank you!


	9. The Wayward Sheikah

Chapter 9: The Wayward Sheikah 

All able men were called to Kakariko's well, where Impa stood to instruct them. They were to build two barricades, one at the village entrance and one in front of the trail leading to Death Mountain, and then they would construct strategic outposts in the upper stories of the remaining buildings, and along the canyon walls, which served as a natural defense around the village. Debris from ruined buildings were loaded on stretchers and hauled back to the construction sites. The wounded and sick were brought back to Impa's house to receive what help she could provide.

Damien busied himself with the difficult task of carrying the charred lumber, happy to have an opportunity to atone for his earlier mistake. He saw Krix now and then, but they had few words to say to each other. Orin stuck with him most of the time, and Damien's respect for him grew as he saw how the men of the village admired him. He called most of the shots while Impa was treating the wounded, since Kelsett was organizing the village's best hunters into a makeshift militia, and the Mayor was nowhere in sight. He roused their spirits and carried whole logs over his shoulder like they were nothing, and his booming laugh could be heard all the way across the canyon. The men were soon showing signs of his encouragement, or at least feeling some small amounts of hope that they could last out the night.

Sleep abandoned Damien, even when the sky had grown dark and he had seated himself behind a finished outpost, exhausted from the work and scarcely able to move. He watched the people moving below him by torchlight, distributing food and blankets and putting the finishing touches on the barricades, and suddenly felt deeply concerned for them. They were up against an enemy that outnumbered and outmatched them, and they had nothing left except luck and each other. He felt that he had to help them somehow; he had to help them get the upper hand. Digging into his pocket (he had left his pack at Impa's house), he fished out the mirror shard, gazing at the moon reflected in its smooth surface. He wondered if he could use the power of the demon voice inside him… As much as he hated to admit it, it was a tempting, attractive thought, and he couldn't put it out of his mind.

"Oi, Damien!" He quickly shoved the shard back into his pocket as a figure came up over the ridge of the hill, not wanting anyone to see it. It was Kelsett, approaching him with a bow slung over his shoulder. He stood as the warrior approached, appraising him silently with cold, disdainful eyes. "You said earlier that you had personally fought Ganondorf, correct?" he asked quietly. There was more than a hint of disbelief in his voice. "I'm assuming you would be willing then to man a guard post with my men, unless you would rather catch some rest?"

"I won't be resting much tonight," Damien replied, feeling that this guy was trying to get on his nerves more than he usually did. "Where do you want me stationed?"

"At the front, near the barricade at the entrance. We want our best fighters there, in case the Gerudo leader decides to finish the rest of us off." He handed the bow to Damien, who was reminded with a twang of regret that he had forgotten his old bow after the battle back in Woodfall. "You can shoot, can't you?"

Dark pulled an arrow from a nearby quiver, provided for the fighters at the outpost, and swiftly nocked it and drew it back, testing the bowstring. It seemed strong enough for the short distance from the outpost to the barricade. "I can shoot a falling Skulltula at fifty paces," he bragged, aiming for the top of a burnt post still left over in the ruins of a house. He fired, and the arrow leapt forward, hitting the target with a dull "thunk" and remained there, quivering. The Mayor and Impa were standing below and started at the sound, glaring up at him once they figured out where it had come from. He grinned over at Kelsett, who rolled his eyes.

"Don't get cocky," he snapped, turning to walk back down the hill. "There are worse things out there than Skulltulas."

The guards slept in shifts that night, their dreams full of dark, marauding figures with fiery eyes. To Damien, if felt as though he'd drift off into an uneasy sleep, and then a few seconds later someone was shaking his shoulder for his turn. The night went by without incident, and in the morning, the guard was changed, and he shuffled over towards Impa's house to see how she was holding up.

A somber gloom hung over Impa and the sick at her feet when he went inside. She looked up as he entered and attempted a tired grin. He could tell it'd been a long night for her as well. He sat down next to her at the table, wishing he could nod off then and there, but too on-edge to try. "Did you see anything?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"No." Damien rubbed at his eyes. "Is Krix ok?"

"He was helping me most of the night. He stood guard for a while, but Kelsett made him come back here. Krix seemed really upset by that."

Damien laughed dryly. "That kid is not one to be trifled with. He doesn't look like much, but he's stronger than me."

"I believe it. He bears himself like a man twice his age. He even helped build the north barricade." She was quiet for a bit, thoughtful. Then she added, "You know, he seems like one of my people, a Sheikah. From what I hear of the Garos, they weren't too different."

That gave Damien an idea. "Impa, Orin told me about your brother. He's a Sheikah; wouldn't he be able to help us?" No expression crossed her face. This struck Damien as strange, and a bad feeling knotted his stomach. "I mean, I could go find him. I could go get help from the castle, too. Maybe there would be somebody who could help."

"There is nobody." Her voice was void of feeling. "The king has forgotten his loyal servants. We have to do this alone." She got up, turning her back to him as she went to check on her patients. "You may go look for my brother and his family, if you like. But do not expect to find anything more than five shallow graves." She said no more, signaling that the conversation was over. Damien rose awkwardly to his feet and quietly exited, pretending that he didn't hear her soft sobs as the door closed behind him.

Crossing the scorched grass towards the south barricade and the field, he saw Krix sitting alone at one of the guard posts. "Hey! Let's go," he called, and the boy hopped to the ground and plodded after him, confused.

"Where are _you_ going?" Kelsett demanded, watching them cross to the barricade and beginning to scale it. "Deserting us already?"

"We're scouting," Damien called over his shoulder, swinging one leg over to the other side. "We should be back before noon. Don't send a party out after us if we don't come back."

"Didn't plan to." Kelsett glared at them as they disappeared over the other side, then nodded up at the archers on either side of the structure, calling, "They're probably not coming back, but if they do, try not to shoot them. We don't want to waste any arrows before Ganondorf comes back."

The two of them struck out over Hyrule Field once more, headed south towards the forest. Krix had to walk quickly to keep up as Damien strode forward determinedly, keeping one hand on his sword hilt and the other one in his pocket, clutched around the mirror shard. "Where are we going?" asked Krix, suspicious. "We're not leaving them already, are we?"

"Of course not. Didn't I leave my pack at Impa's? We're going to the forest for help." Damien's eyes sparkled excitedly; something in him drove him ever forward, closer to this man Esper. Krix studied him, unsure, but said nothing. They passed into the line of trees at the forest's edge, and the familiar half-light of the daytime forest surrounded them.

Well, it was familiar to Damien, at least. Krix stayed unusually close to him as they wound down a twisting path towards the heart of the forest, not comfortable in the close air. The swamp at Woodfall had been different; it was more open, constantly alive in the cool breeze and the gently flowing waters. Here, time stood still, drifting in a dream-like haze beneath a seamless green canopy. It was too quiet, too calm; he didn't trust the silence.

They reached an open clearing where a river ran through the trees, and they stopped at the waters edge. Damien knelt to splash water over his face, and dispel some of the weariness that hung like fog at the edges of his consciousness, but the water in his cupped hands reflected movement in the trees behind him. Before he could think, a small, strong hand shoved him to one side; he rolled sideways, drawing his sword and surging to his feet, and found that Krix had both swords drawn and interlocked with the knives of his attacker, a much taller individual. They drew apart, and the stranger drew back towards the trees in a blur, so that Damien was barely able to catch a glimpse of the crying eye tattooed onto his hand.

"Hey!" Damien ran toward him, but he was gone in an instant, lost in the shadows between the trees. Krix stood ready for a second attack, eyes darting to every moving branch and shadow, expecting the enemy to come out of nowhere. They stood there for a few long moments, not moving, when suddenly a low growl sounded from their right; there was a great thrashing in the bushes, and a little boy, no older than four years, bolted into the open, followed closely by a hungry-looking wolfos. There was a yell from the trees that sounded like a grown man's; the toddler cried out in fear as he tripped and went sprawling to the ground, and the wolfos pounced, its gaping maw glistening with razor sharp fangs.

Something whistled through the air, light flashing over metal; the beast reeled backward with a high-pitched yelp, a black-handled sword sprouting from its chest. Damien recovered from his throw, running forward to come between the creature and the kid. The beast snarled at him as he seized the hilt of his sword and tried to tug it free, snapping at him with powerful jaws and successfully slamming a heavy paw into the side of his head, raking sharp claws over his cheek and knocking him sideways. But he kept his grip and pulled the sword loose, and as the creature closed in for the kill, Damien squinted through the blood and the pain and stepped into his attack, spinning once for full momentum. Steel sang in the air; blood sprayed in an arc above his head as the sword sliced cleanly through the beast's neck, sending the head flying into the trees on the other side of the river. The body collapsed heavily to the ground, and Damien sank to one knee, feeling an incredibly fierce burning all along the side of his face.

Whimpering, the toddler scrambled to his feet and backed away from the two of them, one finger to his mouth as he stood on the verge of tears. The call came again from the trees, and this time it was gentle but urgent. "Conner, come here," said the man, and the little boy hurried towards his father's voice. Damien forced his head up, squinting into the shadows. "Wait!" he called desperately, stumbling as he dragged himself to his feet. "Please, we're friends of Impa's. We came to ask for your help."

Silence. The boy disappeared into the trees, and Damien stepped after them. "The village is under siege! They need your help. Ganondorf …" His progress was halted by a large knife, which lodged itself in the hard ground mere inches from the toe of his boot.

"You are not welcome here," the voice growled, coming from somewhere inside the trees. "You helped my son, and for that I am grateful, so I will give you a chance to leave before I kill you. Do you understand?" Damien swallowed hard. His face was throbbing, and the pain and loss of blood was starting to make him dizzy.

"Don't you care what happens to them?" he persisted. "Don't you even care about your sister? She thinks you're dead, all of you. She cries for you still, even when the rest of the town is about to lose everything."

"You're a fool," the voice growled back. "Do you think one man and three small boys will make any difference? Would you have them be slain before my eyes, like my wife?" His voice cracked slightly near the end, as though he was choking back tears. "The Gerudo King is ruthless and powerful. He will slay everyone who does not bow at his feet. My boys are all I have left."

"There are fathers back at the village who know that the only way to keep their children safe is to fight." Damien fell to one knee again, leaning on his sword as his strength ebbed away. "If we want to keep our loved ones safe from a murderer, we have to fight, and to stop hiding from our fears. Isn't that what the Sheikah believe in? Courage to protect, courage to save?" There was movement beside him, the sound of grass crunching under soft footsteps; he looked up, and grinned to see Krix standing next to him, swords sheathed and arms crossed. Krix grinned back, staring firmly into the trees. "That is the Garo way, too."

There was a pause, hesitant, unsure. Then Damien was vaguely aware of someone suddenly standing on the other side of him, one hand firmly on his shoulder. It took him a minute to realize it was to keep him from falling. The man turned his bloody cheek towards him, studying it. "This is a bad wound," he said, and his tone was concerned and not threatening. "It needs to be treated soon, or you won't last long." Damien nodded slowly, oblivious to what the man was saying as a comfortable weariness rolled over him; he had the faint, almost distant sensation of falling as his vision was consumed by darkness, and then he knew no more.

He started awake in alarm, and found himself in a dark room. Disoriented, he began to sit up, but a sudden burst of dull pain surged through his head, and he fell back down onto a pillow. He was in a bed, a sort of cot, in a tent made of animal skins, and from what he could see, he was alone. Light shone weakly through the thin skins, showing that it was still light outside, and a small crack showed where the door of the tent was. He could see people moving outside through the crack, thought not very well; he tried once again to sit up, slowly this time, and call out to the people, but it came out as a low groan as his head pounded once more. He carefully raised a hand to examine his cheek, and his fingertips brushed the linen bandage over his face, the skin stinging tenderly beneath it. He cursed quietly, and made a move to stand, but his legs wouldn't obey, and he gave up. He sat exhaustedly rubbing his temples, trying to assemble some coherent thought in his aching head.

There were voices outside the tent, and then the door flap was flung aside. Bright sunlight flooded in, and Damien winced as his headache flared in response. "You're awake!" It was Krix. The young Garo hurried to his side, handing him a wooden bowl full of cold water, which the Hylian drank from gratefully. "You've been out for hours. It's almost dusk now."

Damien choked. "What?!" He coughed, then stared intently at his young companion. "We have to get back to Kakariko. They could be under attack by now."

"It's ok, Esper and the others already left. They felt so guilty about leaving Impa and the village that they hurried off right away."

" 'Others?' What others?"

"The other Sheikah." Krix moved to the door flap, and pushed it aside. Damien blinked in the bright light, and saw other tents like his beyond the door. "They've all been living here for weeks, ever since they left Kakariko. They wanted to get away from the war, because the king was using them to take the brunt of the fighting, and letting his soldiers pick up the pieces." He looked sad. "They felt betrayed. That's why they changed their symbol to the crying eye."

"The crying eye…" Damien felt his heart hammer in revelation. "Krix, the man who carried off Ganondorf was a Sheikah of the crying eye!" His hand dropped to his side, and he realized with a start that his sword was missing.

"It couldn't be one of _them_!" insisted Krix. "If they were on his side, they would've let you die in the forest, and they would've tried to kill me."

"Maybe…" Damien grimaced as his head throbbed harder, making it hard to think. "But if someone on the other side is pretending to be one of them, that means that they're in trouble too, and they don't know it yet." He set the bowl on the ground and stood up, leaning on the edge of the cot for support. "We have to go after them, quickly."

"But you're hurt. You can't ride like that." Damien gave him a perplexed look. "Oh, well… they left us horses so we could catch up."

"And… you don't mind?"

"Of course I do. I could easily run the same distance without tiring, even faster than those big dumb animals, but I don't want to leave you behind. You can't help it if you're slow." Damien grinned. Krix was back to bragging again. That was definitely a good sign.

To Be Continued… 

**A/N:** I just want to say one thing… thank you Trevlan () for threatening me and pulling me out of my selfish resistance against writing this story. I have forgotten about the dear people who haven't yet given up on me, and I'm very sorry. : ( I've been very unhappy with this story, but I just have to step back, slap myself, and remind myself that this is supposed to be _fun_. It's supposed to be an outlet for all my obsessive Dark-Link fan energy and my need to be violent, that's all. And I apologize once again for not being able to update regularly, or at least monthly, and for getting so down on myself for something so trifle as a bad start. I like the story much better now, and though I may not be able to update very soon (I'm not even supposed to writing it now because of make-up homework, but I'm sick and bored XP), I'll try to update within a reasonable time frame (as in **not** every four months). Anyway, I hope this chapter made up for it somewhat. This is going to be a long story, I just know it. '


	10. Tears of Healing

**Chapter 10: Tears of Healing**

"Well, if we're going to find Esper, we'd better go soon." Damien wobbled as he attempted to stand, the room swimming as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Where's my sword?"

"Are you crazy?" Krix cried, grabbing his arm to steady him. "You can't even _walk_ right now. What makes you think you can wield a sword?"

"I can walk, watch me." Damien made to take a step forward, but stopped. There was a girl standing outside the tent, watching them through the crack in the door. She blushed slightly as they caught sight of her, and entered the tent, avoiding their eyes.

"Sorry," she said quickly, "I heard voices." She lifted her head to look at Damien and smiled, sheepishly. "I'm glad you're awake. We were afraid you might be out for much longer."

Krix tugged on Damien's sleeve as the girl crossed to a table near his cot, fetching a new bandage for his cheek. "That's Mialee," he said, watching her. "She's Esper's sister. She helped cure your wound." The girl blushed again, twisting her finger in the ties of her apron. "You should really get some rest," the boy insisted. "Just for a little bit longer. You can't help the village if you can't even stay on a horse."

The girl glanced up, as though to say something, but seemed to decide against it. Damien stifled a groan as he sank back heavily onto the cot, rubbing his temple wearily. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't sleep at a time like this… The girl came over and sat next to him, beginning to peel off the soiled linen with careful hands. "I heard what you did for Conner, over by the river," she said as she worked, admiration clear in her voice. "I think you did a brave thing. Esper told me that the Wolfos cornered them while they were fetching water. Conner had wandered off by himself, and if you hadn't come when you did…" She shook her head sadly. "Esper hasn't been the same these past weeks. He gets this distant look in his eyes, and he can barely even look at me ever since my sister…" Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, before returning to the task at hand. "He would never have let his sons get in danger before. I'm afraid for him."

Damien and Krix said nothing, their thoughts elsewhere. Then the bandage came away, and Mialee gasped. Krix glanced up, and his eyes grew wide. "Damien! Your face… it's almost healed already!" It was true; the gashes were shallow and pale, not nearly as bad as they should be. "How could that happen?" The boy looked closely, kneeling next to Damien on the cot. "It's impossible!"

"I…" They looked over t Mialee, and the girl blushed again, fishing something out of her apron pocket. It was a small vial, full of a purplish-blue liquid. "I found it in the forest," she explained, holding it out for them to see. "They're fairy tears; my mother always said they had healing properties." She handed the vial to Damien, who examined it more closely. "I used a little on your wound. They said you had lost a lot of blood, and…" She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what it would do, but…"

Damien shook his head reassuringly, handing the vial back. "Don't be sorry," he said. "If you hadn't, I might have been sleeping for days." She attempted a weak smile, then hastily set about preparing his new bandage.

Once she had it glued in place with a sort of sticky tree sap, she stood in front of them and smiled. "I'll find you two some supper," she said, "You must be hungry."

"Yeah!" Krix jumped up eagerly, but Damien seemed grim.

"We can't stay here much longer. The other Sheikahs still don't know about the black sheep."

Mialee looked shocked. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking from one boy to the other. Krix looked over at Damien, and he shook his head. It was too much to explain now.

"Later," he said, standing up carefully. "We need to get back to Kakariko, now." His head no longer hurt, and neither did the wound; the fairy tears were in effect again. "Mialee, we need you to come with us, to help with the villagers and the wounded. Where's my…?" Mialee moved to the table beside his bed, where a cloth bundle leaned against it. She handed it to him, pulling the cloth away to reveal his cloak and sword.

"You still need rest," she insisted as he buckled the sheath about his waist. "You won't be able to fight for long, especially after the long ride there."

"I will find the strength when I need it." Damien was surprised at how quickly the words came out of his mouth, without a thought. He had the mirror shard, and whoever was sharing his mind. He would be able to handle anything they had in store for him, even in his weakened state. Donning his cloak, he headed out the door, with Krix mere steps behind him. She followed them out, and stood still as they headed for the horses, still tied near a large tent on the other side of the camp. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed nervously before calling out to them.

"Wait!" The boys looked around to see her hurrying towards them. "There is a faster way," she said, stopping beside them. She seemed almost hesitant. "You will have an advantage over the enemy. The others didn't think to use it; they can move quickly on foot, even over large distances."

"…What is it?" Damien didn't much like the indecision in her voice. She nodded, as if in decision, then led them over to a path that wound into the forest.

"It's this way," she said, pushing aside a branch to start down the path. "I'll lead you there." The two warriors looked at each other in uncertainty; they didn't like the sound of it, whatever it was. But Damien shrugged and stepped forward, leaving Krix to bring up the rear. They needed any advantage they could get.

Of course, now that they had a closer look, they weren't so sure. Krix paled visibly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Mialee stood smiling, almost reassuringly, beside what looked to be a gigantic, rather unattractive bird, that looked back at them with little interest. It was outfitted with a special saddle that criss-crossed over its chest and its shoulders, leaving plenty of room for the wings to move. It also had a sort of goatee that sprouted from the underside of its beak, which made it look a bit like an old man. "It's all right, he's really quite friendly," Mialee insisted, panting a giant wing. The bird glared down its beak at them, resting its chin on the ground. "He only listens to Esper and I. We found him being attacked by hunters and drove them off, and even since he's been living here near the camp, where we bring him food. He's waiting to pay us back for helping him, but we haven't needed him until now."

The boys didn't seem very reassured, but took cautious steps forward, coming as close as they dared. Mialee nimbly climbed up the wing and into the saddle, sitting comfortably on the bird's back. "Come on," she said, waving them up. "It's alright." This was the first time she had shown a shred of confidence since they met her; they decided to trust her judgment, if only for now. Damien climbed up first, followed by Krix, and she showed them how to sit in the saddle. Once they were seated correctly, she turned and whistled at the bird. "All ready? Let's go! Fly, Orol! To Kakariko!" The bird surged below them, provoking startled cries from the boys as it rose to its feet, spreading its enormous wings. It shook them for a bit, stretching them after its long rest, then crouched low and **jumped**, surging upwards at incredible speed.

All the breath was forced back down their throats as gravity held desperately onto them, slowly losing its grip as they ascended higher, and finally they broke through the canopy of the forest, which became a sea of green below them, with a perfectly blue sky over and around them. With a flap of its mighty wings, the bird glided forward, eyes half closed in contentment as it felt the wind through its feathers, banking a bit to the right and left to let the breeze roll off either wing. Mialee laughed happily, thrilled by the ride, while behind her the boys held onto the saddle for dear life, Damien's eyes wide and knuckles white, and Krix with eyes squeezed shut and looking a little green.

But it was a smooth ride, and as night began to fall around them, a sunset lit up the sky with orange and yellow, staining the clouds above and the trees below all the colors of autumn. They flew on in silence for a while, and Krix was soon asleep, leaning against Damien's back but not loosening his grip. The Hylian didn't mind; in fact, he wished he could nod off himself, but though his tired eyes burned, his nerves kept them open. He was worried, expecting any second that the trees would roll back below him, revealing a charred, lifeless Kakariko, its brave defenders merely corpses cooling on the charred field. Mialee seemed restless as well; she fidgeted in her seat, never taking her attention off of the horizon ahead of them.

Finally she turned to face Damien, her expression worried. "You said something about a black sheep earlier…" she said, finding it hard to meet his eyes. "What did you mean?"

He felt a twinge of guilt pulling at a knot in his stomach. "Not now," he said, his expression troubled. "I'll explain later. Don't worry," he added hastily, seeing her distress deepen. "We'll take care of it, Krix and I. We'll set everything right." She hesitated, then nodded slowly, turning back towards the front. He felt the knot pull tighter. Why did he think he could fix everything? They might already be too late. Shaking his head, he put the thought out of his mind. There was still hope; there was always hope.

After some time, they saw the forest thinning out below them, and the rolling hills of Hyrule Field dark and bleak in the distance. The sun had sunk well below the horizon, and darkness was falling. In the distance, pinpoints of lights danced and darted through the air like glowing insects. The trio came in low and fast, and the black hole in the foothills that was Kakariko approached out of the darkness.

Damien felt a stab of fear; there was a giant blaze near the west end of the village. "The barricade! It's burning!" Krix looked up at the sound of his voice, and grabbed fistfuls of the bird's feathers in shock and panic when he realized where he was. "We're too late!"

"No!" Damien looked at Mialee in surprise, and saw her reaching into a large bag tied to the saddle. There were two, one on either side, and both were stuffed with something. "We can still turn the tides. Here, take this." She handed him a large, round object, and he stiffened. Looking at her in dread, he watched her pull one out for herself.

"We're going to drop _bombs_ on them?" he asked, feeling the knot in his stomach return.

"We have to do _something_." Mialee patted her pockets, searching for something. "Oh no…" she muttered, growing more frantic as they drew nearer to the fighting, "… where'd I put my flint?" Damien gulped. _Goddesses, don't let us die here on the back of a giant bird in a fiery explosion, please,_ he thought up at the clouds. Glancing down at the ground, he wondered if he would be able hit anything from the back of a moving bird, in complete darkness.

They entered the range of the arrows before they realized, and there was a shout of warning below them as they caught the enemy's attention. There was a shrill whistling as a flaming projectile shot up to meet them, but before they could react or even cry out, there was a blur beside them; the bird lurched as Krix landed on its neck, and in a flash, his hand leapt out, the whistling silenced. Turning back towards Mialee, he grinned as he offered her the arrow, still burning as he held it between two fingers. Looking up, she smiled in pleasant surprise and accepted. "Thank you," she said, touching the flame to the end of the bomb's fuse. It lit, and she dropped it as they passed over the archers below, watching it plummet to the ground.

BOOM!The bird screeched in terror as an explosion rocked the air around them, bright light briefly illuminating the ground below. Damien caught a short glimpse and sucked in a sharp breath; scores of vagabonds, thieves, and cutthroats were swarming the east barricade, all under Gerudo flags. They vastly outnumbered the defenders in the village. "Hey!" He felt an elbow in his side and looked up, and saw Mialee offering him the flaming arrow. Steeling himself, he took it, lit his bomb and pitched it as hard as he could, aiming for a spot where he had seen the attackers more densely packed.

BOOM! The explosion was just as loud as the last, and the bird screamed again, lurching nervously in the air so that Krix almost fell off. But Mialee never flinched; she turned the bird back around for another swoop, she and Damien working in tandem to drops bombs into their swarming ranks. Droves of arrows surged up towards them between explosions, but Krix bobbed and weaved along the bird's shoulders, slicing at those that came in reach. The army below was panicked and taking damage; the men were breaking rank and scattering like frightened ants. But the attack on the barricade held; they couldn't risk a bomb there for fear of hitting their allies.

The bird began to grow frantic. It could not handle the noise and lights for long. It bucked and swerved, squawking piteously. One bomb fell too close, and it lost its head, diving in its rage to snap at them with its beak, clawing and grabbing with its giant talons before pulling back up, dropping men from great heights and diving again. Krix lost his balance and fell back, clinging onto its neck feathers for dear life as a fresh wave of arrows rained down on them, singing in deadly harmony. One found its mark, and Damien's heart jumped into his throat as he saw the arrow shaft bury itself in one of the bomb bags. Drawing his sword, he screamed out, "Fly higher!" and as they lurched up into the air, he cut the bag free with a sharp slice of the blade. He watched it fall slowly to the ground, and realized in horror that they weren't going to make it.

The blast was like an erupting volcano, sending ripples of sound and heat through the air. A horrible roaring filled their ears as fire and earth blasted them from underneath, sending them reeling through space over the battlefield. They plummeted towards the ground, screams caught in their throats as they fell hard and fast. Squawking franticly, the bird attempted to right itself, fluttering franticly as a fresh rain of arrows peppered its wings. Mialee, who had miraculously managed to stay in the saddle, shouted to it to pull up; it righted itself clumsily, swiftly fleeing from the battle.

Damien had managed to grab the side of the saddle, and started to pull himself back up, dangling off the side of the bird. He glanced over his shoulder, back towards the fighting, and spotted a glint of light, not far off. It lingered before his eyes for a moment, shifting, singing over the chaos of battle, its siren call filling his ears as it grew farther away. His breath caught in his throat as dread seized him; he pulled himself up, grabbing Mialee's shoulder. "Wait!" he said quickly, looking back to make sure he could see it. "Turn back around!"

Mialee looked at him incredulously. "We can't go back! They'll kill us!!"

"Just do it. Fly low, that way. I'll jump off."

"_Jump off_?! And do _what_?!"

"I spotted their leader earlier, and I can see him now. If I take down the leader, they'll panic and run. Trust me!" Mialee frowned back at him, uncertain. She glanced at Krix, who was clinging tightly to the bird's neck, and the boy nodded firmly. Mialee gulped; the bird banked left, and they swerved back towards the crowd.

"You two get back to Kakariko," Damien said, loosening his sword in its sheath. "They can't hold up on their own. Pull everyone back and defend what's left." He sat sideways in the saddle, getting ready as they dived over the heads of the thieves below. He felt a hand on his arm, and looked around to see Mialee watching with a fearful, almost pleading expression.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Her voice was quiet and slightly shaky. He laughed ironically, smiling a half-smile but meeting her gaze with confidence.

"As sure as I ever am." She nodded, eyes misty, and faced forward. The glint drew close; in moments he was gone, falling towards the ground. The scrape of steel on leather as he drew his sword, the crunch of breaking bones as he broke his fall on an enemy's spine; the thieves around him fell before they saw him, the air red with blood as his blade danced among them, cutting graceful shining arcs in the night in the flickering firelight. When he stopped, a ring of cooling bodies lay around him, the ground squelching with their blood as he stepped forward, towards the tall figure standing in amusement before him.

The man was slender but strong, sizing him up with cruel dark eyes behind a shock of pale hair. He wore dark leather armor with heavy studs, nothing like the rags worn by the rabble he commanded. Damien recognized him as the man who had posed as a Sheikah and carried off Ganondorf. The source of the light he'd seen was soon apparent; there was a mirror shard hanging from a chain around the man's neck.

The imposter smiled slightly as he approached. "That was quite a display," he said, sounding almost impressed. "I haven't seen skill like yours in a Hylian before." He reached for a large sword stuck in the ground beside him, hefting it as though it weighed no more than a tree branch. "It's a shame that I have to kill you." The man tossed aside his cloak, letting it float to the ground like a red wraith as he took a wide stance. Crouching, he raised the sword to eye level and charged, moving towards Damien with incredible speed.

The Hylian barely had time to dodge, feeling wind ruffle his hair as the man attacked, swinging his blade down to slice him in half. It thudded hard into the ground, leaving the man open to attack, and Damien countered quickly, lunging to sink his blade through a crack in the man's armor for a quick kill.

The sword met nothing, waving pointlessly in empty air. He wavered off balanced, alarmed to find that his target had vanished in a moment, gone. Glancing around, he caught a glimpse of movement behind him; a pair of very heavy boots connected with his back, throwing him forward to crash and sprawl on the ground, his whole body screaming in agony. He lay there paralyzed, struggling to get his unresponsive body to move. A heavy hand slammed into the back of his head, yanking him up by his hair. The man's eyes bore into him as he lifted his sword, leveling it under Damien's chin, his face distorted into a kind of sick grimace. "I guess you're not much against a real warrior," he snarled, bringing the sword back. "Oh well."

A glint. Damien stared through the spots in his vision. Light. The mirror shard swung from its chain, taunting him, dancing in front of his eyes. So close… He plunged his hand into his pocket, searching. His fingertip brushed against something sharp, stinging and slicing open, and he grabbed it, feeling the cool smooth surface against his palm.

Blood leapt on the air. The man stared in horror; Damien snarled darkly up at him, hands and eyes red, bloody fingers clenched around the hilt of his own sword; the blade was buried nearly to the hilt inside the man's chest, broken clean through the armor and out the back. A sharp yank and the sword came free, swinging up to smack his face with the pommel, crushing his nose. He stumbled back with a sharp cry, but was tripped, sending him crashing to the ground.

The hand clutching his shattered nose covered his eyes; he listened in darkness as slow, deliberate footsteps could be heard over his own raspy breathing, coming ever closer. His hand was brushed aside, and above him stood a demon with glowing eyes, holding an enormous sword to his neck. He shook like a child as the demon placed a heavy foot on the man's chest, pinning him down. "You're no warrior," Damien snarled, bringing the blade back. "And you're not fit to wear my mirror shard."

There was a sickening squelch as the sword thudded into the blood-soaked earth. The man's severed head rolled back, blank eyes staring forever into the inky black sky above him as Damien pulled the chain from around his stump of a neck, holding the shard in his palm with the other piece. He smirked to himself, wrapping his fingers tighter around the shattered glass. The red tint faded from his eyes, and he sank to the grass, lying still as weariness overwhelmed him, pulling him into a deep, dark sleep.

To Be Continued…

A/N: I know, another ridiculously late update. This chapter was actually extremely hard to write, though I've no idea why. I think I edited it more than I've ever edited a chapter before, and I'm still not satisfied for some reason. Still, here it is. I'm going to stick with it and finish this story, and hopefully update at least once a month.


	11. Resurrection

**Chapter 11: Resurrection **

Dawn broke red over Hyrule Field. The first rays of the sun revealed marks of the previous night's destruction; a great crater filled with charred earth and the bodies of the dead, surrounded by bloodstained grass and smaller, similar craters from the bomb blasts. Corpses blown to pieces during the night covered the ground, and the smell of death and decay hung thick on the air.

Kakariko lay in complete ruin, razed to the ground. The mournful cries of those still living echoed eerily off the surrounding canyon walls, leaving their mark that would remain for many years to come. The few soldiers still alive set about forcing their weary bodies to bury their fallen comrades, filling their small graveyard with one short battle. Impa wept alone, seeing the suffering that came with war in the faces of the villagers, the people she had sworn to protect.

Well outside the west gate, which had held for most of the night until finally crumbling in the early hours of the day, the small figure of Krix covered his nose as he moved quickly among the bodies, followed by a disgusted but determined Mialee. "Damien!!" he called, hopping lightly over shattered corpses, trying not to step in anything. "Damien!!! Where are you??"

"Krix, calm down!" Mialee called, recoiling in horror as her foot brushed a severed hand. "There might still be some soldiers out here. If they hear you…"

"If they come anywhere near me, I'll slaughter them!!" In a flash, his weapons were drawn, and there was menace and great anger in his eyes. "I'll destroy all of them!! Anyone who dares harm the Sheikah, or any of my friends!" Mialee sobbed; Krix turned around to see her sink to her knees, weeping with her hand over her face. He moved quickly to her side, but just stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do.

"Oh, Krix," Mialee said through sobs, "… I would never…" She sniffed, shaking her head, and looked up at him, eyes tearful and full of sadness. "I would _never_ ask you to take a life for me, not for revenge, _never_."

The boy stood in quite silence, letting this sink in, trying to wrap his mind around this incomprehensible idea as he watched his good friend suffer, not knowing how to comfort her.

The darkness in Damien's mind was pierced by light, overwhelming him; he opened his eyes to the bright sun, groaning as he tested his limbs. He felt stiff from lying on the cold ground, but he was free of injury, not even a scratch left from the previous night's struggle. Sitting up, he took in the hell around him and felt horror creep into the very marrow of his bones. He shivered and stood quickly, wanting to find Krix and put this mad scene behind him. Find his sword lying nearby, he sheathed it without bothering to clean it and stepped off carefully through the wreckage, headed for the village.

Before he had gotten close to Kakariko, he heard a voice calling out from the rotting remains around him. Glancing around, he spied a bandaged hand reaching feebly into the air; he hurried over, pushing bodies of the enemy soldiers off to reveal the Sheikah eye underneath. The bandages covering the man's mouth were bloody and torn, but it only took a minute for Damien to realize that it was Esper. He was badly wounded; Damien knew he wouldn't be able to make it back to the village.

Despite this, the man smiled, meeting his eyes with joy. "You… you came back. Even when I…" He coughed violently, his whole body racked with pain. Blood flecked his mouth; he stopped with a gasp and lay still on the ground, chest rising and falling very slowly as he gazed up into the sky. "My boy, Connor," he said hoarsely, eyes drifting out of focus, "he's such a good boy. When he was born, my grandfather, a Sheikah wiseman, drew a phoenix on his back with his blood. He prophesized that the boy would always return to his homeland, even if it seemed that he would be gone forever. He would reappear as though from death, like the phoenix." Tears shown in his eyes, rolling down his cheek and becoming red with blood. "I'm very proud of him. He has a strong heart, like his mother did." Damien felt his arms shaking, and held them close to his chest. Esper closed his eyes, and breathed his last. A chill wind blew over the battlefield, taking away the souls of the fallen, and Damien felt suddenly very alone.

Not far off, Krix and Mialee caught sight of Damien kneeling by himself, and hurried over with renewed vigor. "Damien!!" Krix called, nearing him and coming to stand beside him. The Hylian seemed lost and far away, shivering in the morning breeze. Mialee came to join them, kneeling at her brother's side and brushing a lock off hair out of his face.

"He was a good man," she said, fighting back tears. They came anyway, making clear trails in the layer of soot on her face. "He thought always of his family and his people, and gave everything to protect them." Leaning down, she kissed him gently on the forehead. "Sleep well, Esper. I will meet you some day in paradise."

She put a hand on Damien's shoulder. "We went to the village and held them back the best we could," she told him softly. "Everyone fought bravely, and those who couldn't helped anyway they could. We lost many, but eventually the soldiers broke and ran. I suppose you could count that as a victory." She looked back down at her brother. "But there was no victory for the Sheikah. They never reached the village. They were ambushed." She glanced back up at him. "We only hope to find survivors."

Damien didn't move. He found he couldn't. Something Esper had said triggered something in his mind. "What…" he began, finding it hard to speak. "What happened to the boys? Conner, and the others."

Mialee looked at him in surprise, and then fear. Damien fought to lift Esper's body, and Krix quickly found a cloth to carry him in. "We need to get back," Damien said, his voice suddenly urgent. "We need to talk to Impa." He and Krix took either side of the blanket, and they marched off, followed closely by a very solemn Mialee.

The Sheikah war maiden stood on a hill overlooking the destroyed town, silent and subdued as the wind whipped her white hair about her face. Damien and Krix trudged wearily up to her, leaving Esper with Orin and Kelsett, who took him up past them to an opening in the canyon wall. Beyond the opening was a wide space covered in mounds of disturbed earth; fresh graves. The few men left standing went about their grisly work with gaunt faces, eyes devoid of any spark of life or happiness as they dug their shovels into the ground, digging tombs for their family and friends. The same empty look had settled into Impa's eyes as well, replacing the fierce, determined light that had once made them shine.

As they stood beside her, a tear fell down her cheek, glinting in the red sunlight before landing in the red dirt at her feet. "Kakariko is dead," she said quietly. "My Sheikah brethren have all been killed; the women, the children, everyone. Their camp was consumed in fire, and the forest around it. The smoke of death fills the sky. My dear sister Mialee and I are the last of our tribe." She turned to them, and met their despairing gazes. "I will rebuild Kakariko, as my brother and his people would have wanted. You may stay if you wish, but you will find no comfort here."

Krix looked up at Damien, but the man avoided his eyes. "I wish we could help, but that's impossible. We came to Hyrule looking for a certain artifact, and found it with the enemy. Even if we wanted to stay, we must move on. The fate of someone important rests with us."

"Someone important to you?" Malon's smiling face flashed into his mind, bringing with it the warmth of the sun and the scent of summer flowers, and he stood in a daze, surprised by the unbidden thought. "If they are truly important to you, I will not begrudge you leaving us. The most urgent thing is life is to protect the people you love." Krix looked up at her in awe, moved by her heartfelt wisdom. Damien stirred out of his daydreams, renewed and determined.

"Yes, it is more important than anything." He bowed slightly in respect to her. "May the Goddesses aid you. One day, Kakariko will return to life once more."

"Like the phoenix." He looked at her in shock, but she simply smiled back at him thro ugh the tears in her eyes. "Good bye, Damien," she said, as though uttering a secret. "May love protect you."

The scene before him began to shimmer, as though through tears; but his wide eyes were dry, and he realized it was the power of the mirror shards taking them away. "Wait!" he called, reaching out towards her. His hand met nothing as the Hyrule of the past disappeared around them, replaced by parched grass. A blue sky stretched over them, reaching out before him towards a large wall in the distance. With a jolt, he realized he was standing in Termina Field once more, and all traces of war had gone, replaced by the searing heat of a summer sun.

"Ok!!" Damien glanced around to see Krix standing with crossed arms next to him. "What the heck happened? How did we get here? How did we get to Hyrule in the first place? Why are you acting so calm about all this??"

Damien reached into his pocket and pulled out the mirror shard, which had doubled in size. "I found this on the captain of those soldiers, when I jumped off of that bird thing. Once we were finished in Hyrule, it took us back."

"Why didn't you tell me about it in the first place?" the boy demanded accusingly. "That kind of information is important to know! If you had told- " A low rumble interrupted his rant, and he clutched his stomach, a pained look on his face. Damien realized they hadn't eaten a decent meal in days, and felt his stomach start to ache.

"Look, we can argue about this later. I'm starving." He shuffled over to the shade of a nearby tree and sat heavily on the grass, opening his pack, which had miraculously survived the previous nights' battle. He was followed closely by Krix, and they ate a cold meal in silence, downing their stale rations quickly. Then they leaned back against the tree and rested, dozing in the afternoon haze.

"Not getting to comfy, are we?" Damien sat up with a start, glancing around. Krix was sound asleep, exhausted from a long night. Nobody else was in sight. "I hope you haven't forgotten your mission?"

_I haven't forgotten!_ Damien thought in annoyance, recognizing the voice in his mind. _Where were you in Hyrule? We could've used your help!_

"I would've helped if you'd asked. You just seem to only want my help when you are about to be slaughtered by something much larger and more powerful than you. Which is understandable, I suppose…" Damien had a brief flash of his encounter with the captain and felt his now-full stomach turn uncomfortably. "Still, I can't use too much of my power in Hyrule, even in as dark and chaotic a time as the Great War. I'm simply… not well-off there."

Damien gritted his teeth, glaring at the ground. _I know who you are!!_ He thought accusingly. _You're the god of destruction, Arkel! The Fierce Deity's brother!_

"Correct! Very good. I was wondering if you were going to figure it out."

_You're using me to get to Kain, aren't you?_

"Careful, _Damien_. Remember who you are throwing accusations at. I am not _using_ you. We simply have similar interests in mind, and I think we would be much better off working together. You are going up against a _god_ here, after all. And I simply lack the means to approach him in my proper form. So we are lending each other our powers, doing each other a favor. You should be thanking me; I am being polite in letting you keep your mind, instead of tearing it from you and steering you around like a killer, vegetable-brained puppet. Remember that."

_You're bluffing._ Silence. The voice seemed surprised. _If you could do that, you would have done so in the first place, instead of wasting time-_ A hot stab of pain surged through Damien's body, shooting all the way to the tips of his toes, and he fell back against the tree trunk, fighting for his breath as his head pounded in protest. A brief, dreadful silence followed, before the voice spoke again, and its tone was menacing and powerful.

"That was a warning, boy. Do not think that because I find amusement in using you as a vessel, you may speak to me in any way you please. I am the dark god Arkel, and I created the air you are breathing right now. I would not hesitate to snatch it from your lungs, should you prove to displease me."

Damien felt a surge of anger, blocking out the painful throbbing in his temples. He had heard those words before, somewhere… two amber eyes that burned like coal bore into his mind, a grimace of glinting, crooked teeth... He reached out to Krix and shook him by the shoulder, rising to his feet. "Hey, come on. Let's keep moving." The boy groaned in resistance, but rose sleepily to his feet, shrugging on his gear. Damien lead the way over the field, ever conscious of the presence behind him, watching his every move, an invisible threat that was possibly even more dangerous than the enemy he had come to defeat.

Krix, who had once been the teacher and was now out of the loop, was content to shuffle behind his taller companion as Damien strode purposefully onward. "So, where does the mirror want us to go now?" he said with a hint of sarcasm, kicking small stones that lay across his path.

Damien paused in annoyance, feeling the presence in his mind grow briefly stronger, as if to remind him. "West. Towards the sea."

"The sea?" Krix shrugged. "I've been there a few times. It's ok. Too many people though, especially at this time of the year."

The continued the rest of the way in silence, coming soon to a low wall that cut off Termina Field from what lay beyond. Hopping over it with ease, they felt the ground beneath them grow warm and sandy under their feet, until it was so soft it shifted under their weight. The rocks around them slowly gave way to an open beach, and stretching out before them beyond the reaches of sight, crystal-clear blue water, slowly rolling out in the distance. Sunlight glistened on the surface, bringing back distant memories of Lake Hylia and Zora's Fountain. At the time, they were the largest bodies of water Damien had ever seen, but they were nothing compared to the infinite blue he now saw before him. He stood mesmerized, dazzled by the sun on the water, calmed by the soft, salty breeze in his hair. Krix looked up at him impatiently, confused by the sudden relaxed look on his face.

"Hello? You still there?" Damien looked around at him. "We have a shard to find, remember?"

"Yeah, sorry." The Hylian looked back at the ocean, listening to sea gulls calling in the distance. "It's just… I've never seen the ocean before."

Krix sighed, rolling his eyes. "Come on, lead the way. Where are we supposed to go?"

"You're not going _anywhere_." Damien looked around quickly, but something hard smacked into the side of his head. Krix drew his swords as he sank to the ground, standing over him protectively as four veiled figures closed in, curved blades glinting in the sun. With a loud battle cry, he leapt to the attack, locking swords with one of the attackers. They swarmed around him, and even his battle prowess was not enough to keep them at bay; they were all well trained and swift, and they quickly overpowered him, seizing him and tossing him into the rising tide. Krix coughed as he kicked his way back to the surface, struggling even in the somewhat shallow water as his wet clothes weighed him down. A bad swimmer on a good day, he feebly made his way towards shore, watching them lift Damien into a small boat and head out, rowing towards a neighboring cove.

Krix choked out salt water as he finally reached the beach, dumping his heavy cloak and running along the sand after them. They disappeared around a large outstretch of rock that separated one part of the cove from the other; Krix quickly climbed up the side of it, jumping over tide pools and treading lightly over sharp barnacles until he could peer over the top. He watched the boat heading north towards a rock wall, and bit his lip. The pirate fortress? How was he supposed to get Damien out of _there_?

To Be Continued…

**A/N**: I know, another late update. It wasn't laziness this time, I swear. These past couple months have been crazy, and I really haven't had any spare time to write until recently. It's getting good though, isn't it? I'm sure some of you saw a couple of things coming, like this promise of pirate vs. ninja action! Things will really start to pick up now, as if they haven't been already…


	12. The Thieves Fortress

Chapter 12

The only entrance to the fortress was by water, a large hole in the surrounding cliffs protected by an enormous gate. Guards stood watch in towers on either side of the gate, opening it only when one of their boats approached. Krix knew it would be difficult to infiltrate the fortress, and began to form a plan as he stood surveying the gate from a nearby cliff. He hid his cloak and pack, knowing they would only slow him down. The pirates greatly outnumbered him, and trying to fight his way through would not be wise. He would have to rely on stealth to make his way through the fortress, and somehow get himself and Dark back out. The biggest and most immediate problem he faced was getting in; he couldn't swim, and couldn't see any way around those gates.

At the foot of the cliffs, debris and driftwood floated in the shallow water among the rocks, left over no doubt from attacks by those pirates on passing ships. Krix climbed down to the water's edge, picking out the largest piece of driftwood. It was a log about as wide as he was, and almost as long. To this he tied a frayed and molding length of rope, setting it adrift in the choppy water. Carefully, he waded in after it, clinging to the rope as he pushed out into deeper water. The ground suddenly gave out from under his feet, and his heart leapt as he dropped suddenly in the chilly water. But his grip on the rope was sure, and the log kept him afloat. Staying out of sight of the towers, he made his way along the cliff, staying to the very edge and moving slowly. In this way, he inched closer to the fortress, looking like nothing more than a stray log adrift in the ocean.

It was awkward going, as he was not used to his limbs being so sluggish and heavy. He vaguely remembered swimming in the river near his old home in Ikana, but it was a long time ago and his muscles weren't used to it. By the time he neared the gates he had grown exhausted, and it was all he could do to hang on to the rope and keep his head above water. The sound of voices came down to him from the towers, and he ducked his face into the water, so only his head above his mouth was exposed. The sun had nearly set, and the flicker of torch lights indicated where the towers were on the high cliff. He would be almost impossible to see in the near darkness. He kicked his feet below the surface to avoid making noise, moving more quickly towards the gate. As he had hoped, the gate was old and damaged, and there were holes just big enough for he and his log to slip through.

As he entered the fortress, he saw a boat approaching a long dock near the entrance. There was a thief there, but she was alone. Tying her boat up at the dock, she climbed out of the boat, looking around as though to be sure she wasn't followed. He watched her approach a guard who was standing nearby, who straightened up and saluted as she passed. The woman made no gesture in return, but continued down the dock and into a large entrance in the side of the fortress. Krix followed her path, edging his floating disguise ever closer to the dock, seeming to follow the current flowing in from the gates.

His log bumped into the dock a foot from where the guard was standing. The guard had been suspiciously watching the log float towards her, and now as it finally reached the dock, she leaned over to look at it. Behind her, Krix clung to the edge of the dock, slowly drawing himself out of the water so as not to make a sound. As she was distracted with the log, poking and prodding it with her long spear, he pulled himself fully onto the wooden planks, creeping toward her, crouched to keep himself as low as possible. One of the boards creaked, and her head whipped around; he struck quickly, striking her in the side of the head with the sheath of his sword. She went down, hitting the planks hard. He crouched, anticipating an alarm, but none came. His attack had gone unnoticed for now. Moving quickly down the dock, he kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, moving to stand to one side of the entrance.

There was no noise from inside. He slipped into the cover of the dark entryway, moving over cold, rusting steel, keeping low and feeling his way along the wall with his hand. The tunnel opened up into a large courtyard, with a single tower in the middle. There was a rope bridge leading from the tower to an open door in the base, and he saw the thief from earlier crossing it. Guards saluted to her as she passed, but again she paid them no heed. Krix began to think that she must be their leader, for them to show such respect even though she showed none in return. She would know where they were holding Dark.

A searing pain in his temple brought Dark back to consciousness. He groaned, raising a hand to his throbbing head, and realised that his wrists were tied together with a coarse rope. Attempting to raise himself a little, he saw that he was inside a stone cell, with only a large wooden door with a tiny window to provide light. He tried to remember how he had gotten to this place, but his head hurt too much to think clearly. He vaguely remembered standing on the beach... and then there were people standing all around them... he fell, and was dragging into a boat... Nothing made sense. The only logical conclusion he could find was that he had been somehow imprisoned by those people, though he had no idea who they were or what they wanted.

There were footsteps in the hallway outside his cell; the door was wrenched open, letting in a sudden light that set off sharp stabs of pain in his skull. Two figures entered, roughly pulling him to his feet and out of the cell. He stumbled along with them, his feet sluggish, prodded on by the sharp tips of their swords. They brought him to a chamber off the same hallway, shoving him down onto his knees in the middle of the room. A woman sat in front of him on an elegant throne, wearing a self-satisfied smile. They way she looked at him made him feel like he was going to be cooked and eaten; she stood, and the guards on either side of her came to attention. They were all women, like her. Something about this, and the way they looked, was reminding him of something, something from a very long time ago.

"So," the lady thief began, sizing him up with her gaze. "I find two trespassers on my beach, a man and a boy. Neither of you proved to much of a challenge. But one of you..." She stood forward, placing a finger under Dark's chin to lift his face to meet hers. "One of you interests me. Normally I would just have had you killed, but you may be of some use to me." She released Dark with a jerk of her hand that wrenched his head to the side, eliciting a small hiss of pain from him. Walking back to her throne, she picked up an object that had been leaning against it, that he hadn't noticed until now. His heart fell into his stomach.

"This is a beautiful blade," she said, turning Glacius over in her hands. She ran her hands over the pearl handle, the white leather sheath inlaid with silver, admired its fine craftsmanship. Dark looked at it a long moment, wondering if it had looked that way when Zelda has given it to him. Come to think of it, he had completely forgotten that he was carrying it. Had it been with him this whole time without him noticing? She pulled it out of the sheath just a tiny way, to examine the blade edge. Her face split into a wide grin. "I can hear it calling me, begging me to spill the blood of my foes. I will keep this blade." She set it back down beside her throne, then sat down.

"I had a vision," she said, and her voice was full of the authority and reverence of a zealot. "It was given to me by the Goddess herself. She said that the road to greatness lay in front of me, I had only to act and it would be mine. She told me of two travellers who would appear, carrying with them powerful artifacts." She reached into her robe, producing the Mirror from between the folds. It was larger than Dark remembered. His blood ran cold. "You know what this is? This is the key to my ascension. And you had it with you all along. I had a piece that I found buried in the sand of the bay. Now there is but one piece remaining." Her eyes flashed like fire as she met Dark's gaze, and he saw the fervent greed that lay within. "You know where that piece is, don't you? Tell me."

A heavy silence fell over the chamber. The truth was, Dark had no idea where the last piece was. Only Arkel knew that, and he was being strangely silent. Dark cursed him in his mind, feeling the gaze of the lady thief grow more intent and angry with each passing second. "The Mirror is cursed," he said finally. "It drives any who use it into madness, and brings nothing but death and suffering to those who carry it. Don't let your greed make you a fool." The expression that crossed the thief's face then was one of pure rage. Standing, she covered the distance between them in two steps, backhanding him.

"You DARE call me a fool?" he heard her say, through the pounding in his head. She seized the front of his shirt, digging her sharp nails into his skin. "You WILL tell me where the last piece is, or I will run you through with this blade of yours!"

"I don't know where it is!" Dark protested; with a growl of frustration, she threw him to the ground.

"Take him back to the dungeon! We will make him talk, whatever it takes." The guards seized him, dragging him from the room. She turned back to face her throne, resting one hand on the high back, tracing the detailed gold with the tips of her fingers. "I will not be prevented from reaching my ascension."

Krix had managed to follow her without being detected, and now stood watching through a small barred window as she interrogated Dark. He was eager to create some form of distraction, or jump in and interrupt, but he knew they were outnumbered, and Dark would be in danger if he drew attention to himself. He watched them drag him out of the room, and decided to intercept them on the way back to his cell. Scanning the room below him one last time, he made to leave, but something caught his gaze. There, hanging on the wall above the throne, was a large disk, one side a brilliant gold depicting the sun, the other a shining silver depicting the moon. Each were intertwined with the other, with runic writing engraved around the border of the disk.

Krix's heart stopped. There was the artifact that he had been looking for, the one he had traveled all over Termina in search of, even among the dullards that lived in Clock Town. There was the Soluna! He gripped the windows bars until his knuckles were white, frantically searching the room below. There were only a couple guards there, along with the leader. She seemed enraged, barking orders at the guards until they quickly saluted and left the room. Now it was only her. He was now faced with the choice of going after Dark, or taking this, what might be his only chance, to recover the precious artifact. He debated for almost a minute, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other and glancing up and down the hallway he was in. Whatever choice he made, it would have to be fast; he would only have a short window of time to act on either of them before someone came along and spotted him. With a curse, he lifted up the bars of the window, just enough to climb through. He couldn't waste this moment; he would find a way to rescue Dark after he had snagged the Soluna.

He dropped down from the window to the ground below, landing soundlessly. The leader thief didn't notice his entrance, but continued to paw at her throne, examining the gold with a wild look in her eye. He slid along the wall, taking great care not to make a single noise and reveal his presence. He would have to draw her attention away from the throne to retrieve the artifact, that much was certain. Taking a pebble from the ground, he threw it, hitting an empty pot on the opposite side of the room. There was a satisfyingly loud noise when the pebble hit, and she spun to face the noise, eyes wide. One hand on the hilt of her sword, she stalked over, leaving plenty opportunity for Krix to dash over behind the throne, watching her from behind it. Satisfied that she was busy with her search, he climbed to the top of the throne, using it to reach the Soluna.

Even with the added height of the throne, the artifact was just out of his reach. He stretched, standing on one foot, fingers splayed, desperate to touch even the very bottom of the disk. The tip of his finger brushed the burnished surface, then slipped underneath the disk. With a deft little movement, he pushed it up off its mount, catching it and holding it in his hands. They shook as he examined the artifact up close, taking in every little detail of the elaborate runes, the smooth surface. Surely this was the treasure he had been seeking.

"YOU!" Krix spun to face the lady thief, who had her curved swords drawn, advancing on him. "I should have had you killed, you little brat!" Krix jumped down from the throne, dodging as she swung wildly at him, the sharp edge of her blade whipping just past his head. Grabbing a pot, he lobbed it at her head; she smashed the pot with a swift slice of her blade, sending shards flying in every direction. But the pot was not chosen at random; it was filled with a strange yellow substance, and when the pot was broken, it spilled out all over the thief. She shrieked in surprised rage, flailing as the viscous liquid oozed from her face and limbs. It looked like honey. Krix took this moment of distraction to bolt out of the nearest exit, followed by her screams of fury. The noise would no doubt attract the guards. He had to hurry and find Dark.

They were not taking him back to his cell, but to another room in the fortress. Dark was weighing his chances of breaking free of them, but he was unarmed and bound, and they were both trained warriors. An attempt at escaping would most likely earn him no more than another beating. Regardless, he was still looking for an opening when the sound of a loud gong being struck reached them. It was an alarm, judging by the now frantic-looking guards, who were looking around as if they expected an intruder any minute.

Dark choose this momentary distraction to drive his heel into one of the guards' legs, throwing her off balance with a howl of pain. Then he brought his tied hands down on the base of her neck, stunning her. As she flopped to the ground, he dodged the spear aimed his way by the other guard, seizing it and using his foot to wrench it out of her hands. He smacked her with the butt of the spear, first in the stomach, then in the head, and as she crumpled to the ground, he began sawing at the ropes on his hands with the blade. They came away easily enough, and he rubbed at his sore wrists. Taking the spear with him, he made his way down the hall, mentally thanking whoever had set off that alarm. Now he just had to find a way out from this place.

He wandered the hallways, ducking out of sight whenever he heard running feet. The guards were swarming the place, but they made a lot of noise, so getting around them was easily as long as he stayed alert. He finally reached an open courtyard, and ducked behind a stack of crates. Some thieves were arguing nearby, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. The leader from earlier was doing most of the yelling; she seized a nearby thief in rage and shook her, shoving her and pointing. Both guards ran off that way, leaving her alone to fume silently. She was covered in some sort of sticky substance, and it matted her hair and her clothes to her, making her look like an wet cat. Dark stifled a laugh.

"Dark!" A small voice came from close by; Dark looked over to see Krix hiding behind a crate nearby, waving him over. Taking care to make sure nobody was looking his way, he darted out and joined Krix, crouching next to him. "What happened? You're bleeding!"

"Let's talk about it later. We need to get out of here first. Do you know the way out?"

"You're not going anywhere." They looked around to see that the lady thief had pointed them out, and there were guards advancing on them, spears lowered. "I've had enough of these two. Kill them both, then dump their bodies in the bay. Show them no mercy!" Dark brought his stolen spear up to defend himself, and Krix drew his swords. The guards surrounded them, creating a wall of blades all around them. Dark sized them up, then stole a glance back at Krix.

"This doesn't look good." Krix didn't respond. Instead, he ground his feet into the dirt to get a better footing. With both of his swords in his hands, and his friend and a precious artifact to protect, he didn't care what the odds were. If there had been a hundred rather than a dozen guards facing them, it would have only fueled the flames of battle that burnt in his soul. Dark felt his determination, and felt new found respect for his young comrade. With new vigor, he leveled his spear towards his enemies. "Good thing I've got you here with me. Let's give them hell." Krix smiled in agreement, and in one motion, they both leapt to the attack.

The clashing of their blades was loud and clamorous, their warcries echoing from the walls of the fortress as they drove into the enemy line, dodging lunging blades from all sides as a half dozen warriors each sought to bring them down. Dark fought with a fierce but staccato intensity, picking them off one by one with a few well-placed jabs with the spear. Krix however was a blur of motion, blocking and attacking over and over in a series of swift movements, whirling and striking with such sureness it was almost as though he knew when the attacks were coming before his enemies did. One after the other, the guards dropped to the ground, leaving only light wounds where their blades had slid by too close. By the end, only Dark and Krix remained standing, bleeding and breathing heavily, but having successfully defeated their enemies.

Panting, Krix and Dark looked around for more attackers. They saw the leader was still standing where she had been before, arms crossed, glowering. She had witnessed each of her followers fall, but she hadn't turned to run. They faced her, weapons heavy in their hands but still raised, waiting her reaction. She did not move for a while, then she reached into her robes, producing the mirror once more. She said nothing, but raised it over her head. The surface began to glow with the last, fading light of day, then to pulse, the air around it shimmering.

"The Mirror!" Krix said, looking at Dark. "What is she doing?" A horrible realization struck Dark, twisting his stomach into a knot. He remember the warrior he had battled in old Hyrule, how the mirror had given him incredible strength. And that was with just a piece. If someone was to use the Mirror when it was this size...

"Stop her! Don't let her use it!" They leapt forward to separate the Mirror from her, but a blast of energy threw them backwards. They landed painfully some feet away, watching with terror as the Mirror began to float up from her hands, bathing her with its unholy light. She began to laugh, her voice sounding strange and hollow.

"Now, I will show you the true power of the Mirror!" she said, spreading her arms. "I am Aveil, the reincarnation of Heptus, Goddess of the Thieves! Even in its incomplete form, this Mirror will be the instrument of my ascension!" Then, to their terror, she began to grow in size, her muscles bulging, eyes glowing. There was a sickening crack, like the breaking of bones, and suddenly a second pair of arms erupted from the bottom half of her rib cage, waving about with a life of their own. Curved fangs grew up from her lower jaw, curving over her upper lip, her face twisted into a monstrous visage. Laughing with a deep, demonic laugh, she drew four large curved blades as if from nowhere, and began to advance on the two, her footsteps heavy, her four limbs deftly twirling the enormous swords.

The two struggled to their feet, dwarfed by the monstrosity before them. The huge swords came swinging at them, creating a wind that buffeted them even as they threw themselves out of the way and broke the earth where they impacted, leaving a spiderweb of cracks and kicking dust into the air. It was all they could do to avoid the giant blades, and they were already tired from their previous battle. Dark moved too slow, and was forced to try to block with his spear; the force of the impact threw him, breaking the staff in two pieces. Krix looked around in alarm as he fell past him, and was caught off guard, blocking just in time for one of the blades to come swinging around, picking him up off his feet and flinging him to the ground. The two warriors lay gasping for breath as the colossal enemy brought up her swords, preparing to bring them down in a final devastating blow.

Just then, a howling began, starting low and building to a shrill, deafening torrent of sound. Dark covered his ears, feeling a fierce wind whipping his hair into his face. Looking over at Krix, he saw the boy's mouth was open, eyes wide with terror; following his gaze, he looked up at the monster, and he recoiled in disgust. The Mirror was pulsating above the beast, glowing brighter than ever, as the monster thrashed and wailed, its skin shriveling like an old fruit, its muscles atrophying before their eyes. Her face was distorted into one of agony, screaming as though she were being torn apart. The Mirror ate her flesh, deteriorating her inch by inch, down to the bone and beyond, and all the while she clawed at the air, at the ground, digging her bony fingers into the dirt under they were gone, until she was all gone, with nothing left but dust. The Mirror, unharmed, floated down to the ground, where it rested face up in the dirt. The glow was gone; it looked like nothing more than a normal mirror.

They both stared at it for a long moment. Silence fell over the fortress, leaving only the emptiness the Mirror had wrought. The guards stirred behind them, and they looked to see they had witnessed the whole thing. They lay staring, unbelieving, at the spot where Aveil had been, trembling, whispering to one another. None of them seem to comprehend what had just happened. Dark stood, and they drew back from him, recoiling as though in fear. Krix followed him, watching him walk over to where the Mirror lay. He stood staring at it for a while, marveling at its evil corruptive power. With an object like that, would just picking it up corrupt him too? He hesitated a bit, then bent to reach for it.

"Wait!" Krix interrupted him. He looked over to where he young friend was standing, and noticed for the first time how tired he looked. When was the last time they'd had a full night's rest? He was bruised and cut as well, and blood stained his clothes in some places. He looked so small next to the huge fortress around him; he was still young, after all. "We don't have to take it," Krix said, looking down at the Mirror. "We can just leave it here. There has to be some other way." Dark stared at the ground, tired and resigned. It had already been a much longer journey than he had anticipated. Now that they were near the end, they had to push through. They had gone too far to go back now.

He picked up the Mirror, feeling it hum with energy in his hands. He looked at Krix, who had a disheartened look on his face. "There isn't another way," he said. With that, he walked over to where the guards sat together, heads bowed, trembling. They looked up as he approached, and he could sense their tenseness as they spotted the Mirror in his hands. "My bag, my things. And my sword. Where are they?" he asked. His voice was cold, and they seemed reluctant to meet his gaze.

"Here." One of the guards stood, flinging his bag at him. It crashed at his feet. "Take it and go. Take the Mirror and never come back here." Dark picked up his bag, putting the Mirror inside before slinging it over his shoulder. He looked to Krix, who began to walk towards the entrance, avoiding the guards who refused to look at him. Dark followed, entering the tunnel that lead out of the fortress.

At the end of the long dock, the boat that Aveil had used was still tied up. They made their way down the wooden planks, a heavy feeling weighing on them. There was a cry overhead; the great gates slowly opened as they untied the boat from the dock, preparing to set out. A guard hurried down the docks towards them, a large object in her hands. It was Glacius; she thrust it towards Dark, an angry fire in her eyes. "If your sword is cursed as well, we don't want it," she said, and Dark accepted the weapon, watching the guard stalk angrily back up the dock. She paused halfway up, turning back towards them. "If you return here, you will be killed on sight. You are now enemies of our people." Then she turned back and hurried up the rest of the way, disappearing inside the fortress. Krix pointed up towards the walls of the fortress, and Dark could see archers standing above them, arrows ready to speed them on their way if necessary.

"Let's get going," Dark said, hopping into the boat with Krix and pushing off. He rowed steadily towards the gates, passing them with the distinct feeling that there were eyes watching them. The gate closed slowly behind them, and they rowed out over the bay, boat bobbing in the choppy water. The sun had set, and the cliffs around them rose like great shadows, and the sea was black and empty. Dark looked to his friend, who was staring out blankly over the horizon. His eyes seemed far away, and Dark thought he looked a bit older than when they had first met. A chill ocean wind tousled their hair and stung their eyes, and Dark shivered a bit as he pulled harder at the oars.

They camped on the beach that night, building a small fire to ward off the chill that had fallen over the bay. Krix went to bed first, and Dark didn't raise any protest. He had seemed distracted all night, and he probably needed his rest. Dark propped himself up against a stone to keep the first watch, feeling exhaustion drag at his eyelids. The presence of Glacius nearby was a strange one, even though he kept telling himself that he had been carrying the sword this whole journey. Had he simply forgot? He tried to remember, back through his many adventures in the last few days. Had he been carrying the sword then? He couldn't remember. He didn't even remember the reason that Zelda had given it to him. Was it to just show her support? He had a sword, he didn't need another one.

All of these questions were making him more tired. He looked out over the bay, contemplating what they had witnessed back at the fortress. The Mirror was that terrible and powerful, and he had it in his possession. He was tempted to pull it out just to look at it, to examine it, to decipher it. But he knew that was not a good idea, so he put it out of his mind. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes just for a moment, listening to the sound of the sea rushing against the shore, and in a moment, he had fallen asleep.


End file.
